How it Started
by savinglives44
Summary: Maddison. Conclusion. Mark and Addison go back to church and Addison realizes her feelings. Rated M for sex. Finally.
1. An Offer That Can't Be Refused

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters! Or Al Pacino.**

**How it Started**

It all started with Al Pacino.

Pacino was Mark's favorite actor (and idol, hence, all the leather jackets). He mentioned this at a dinner party one time, and it was one of those anecdotes that Derek made fun of, and Addison always remembered.

It was at a different party, and Derek wasn't there. This was the third charity event that Addison had been to in a month; she didn't even remember the cause. She did remember playing pool after, drinking a bit, and then telling Mark that she hadn't seen _The Godfather._

He stared at her for almost a minute, and then threw back his drink and hers. She stared at him as he grabbed her hand, quickly escorting her to his SUV. He didn't say a word to her on the way to his apartment, but she wasn't scared.

She walked into his kitchen by herself, but he surprised her by picking her up and boosting her over his shoulder. She laughed when she saw his smile. In return, he pretended to drop her on the couch, but then caught her and gently placed her down.

She might have fallen asleep for a second because when she opened her eyes, Mark had turned on the DVD player and retrieved two beers from the kitchen. "It's so late," she said as the movie started.

"Nothing compared to what we endured in med school." Mark took a swig of beer and gestured to the television. "Watch the movie. It is imperative to your future well-being."

"I have to go home." She stood up and a blanket fell off of her. She realized that he intended her to stay. "Derek will be waiting," she explained.

"No, he won't." Mark didn't move. "He just called. You were sleeping."

Addison crossed her arms, the pitch of her voice raising until she mimicked the shrill tone of her mother, "Well, you should have woken me up. Didn't he want to talk to me?"

"Addison," he sighed with a slight groan of annoyance, "the conversation lasted less than a minute. He literally hung up after once sentence."

The tiniest whine escaped her mouth before she bit her lip, and turned around, looking for her coat. "I'm leaving," she said with no resolution at all.

He stood up. "No, you're not." He touched her hips, and then pulled away as if unsure about his actions. Hesitating, he rubbed the stubble of his chin, and then impulsively tugged at her dress, bringing her back on the couch.

She let him because he wanted to be with her, and her husband didn't. But he didn't push her, so she sat at the opposite edge of the couch. Three hours later, she was wide awake and snuggled into his side.

Mark was silent as the credits rolled down the screen. "So, what do you think?"

"You were right." She shook her head in defeat and smiled. "I can't believe I'd never seen that movie."

He pulled his arm from around her and stood up to turn off the DVD player. "I can't believe Derek never showed you that movie."

She pushed herself to sit up on the couch and twisted her hair in a bun, only to realize that she'd forgotten a hair tie. "Right. Hey, you don't have a hair tie, do you?"

He laughed, and directed to the bathroom. "I have scrunchies." He opened the bottom drawer under his sink, revealing a colorful disarray of fabric.

"Wow." She picked a pink tie-dye scrunchie up, and shot it towards him. He caught it at his chest, and threw it back at her. She knelt down to get a better look. "How did you get so many?" Her eyes widened in suspicion. "What do you do with these? Do you have a weird thing?"

"A weird thing?" He asked.

"You know…like a fetish." She crinkled her nose in disgust.

"No!" He shut the drawer with his leg. "If you were going to make fun of them, you shouldn't have asked for one."

She grabbed his leg and pulled it away. She felt his muscles flex under her fingertip, and smiled at this. All of a sudden, she forgot what his leg looked like under his pants. She'd seen it plenty of times before, but she couldn't remember, and she wanted to slide his sweats up to look at it.

She looked down and realized she was still wearing her dress. How ridiculous. She supposed it was less ridiculous than a drawer full of women's xcrunchines. "So, what are these?" She grabbed a handful of the scrunchies.

Mark sat on the edge of the bathtub, shrugging. "I had a lot of sex in the eighties."

"Seriously?" Addison dug deeper in the drawer, and her finger got caught around something with more lace and less elastic. She held up the string thong. "Not just a scrunchie collection?"

"That's not supposed to be in there." Mark grabbed it and threw it in the trashcan.

Addison raised her eyebrows in suspicion. "You keep hair ties, but not underwear?"

"Well, no one would ever want to use the underwear, but…" he grabbed one of the scrunchies and twisted her hair into a ponytail, "…you can use one of these."

Addison touched the back of her hair. "Oh…that's nice of you to think of your female guests." She smiled, kidding.

"So now you're a female guest?" He sat down on the cold bathroom floor with her. "You want the special treatment?"

"Mark." She looked away, withdrawing from him. She didn't want to be treated like one of his one night stands. She didn't want to lead him on, as if he'd ever want to be with her. But she had to remember that she was married. She wasn't allowed to flirt, regardless of how undesirable she appeared.

"I meant pancakes in the morning, Addison." He slammed the scrunchie drawer shut, and the sound of wood on wood contact vibrated loudly in the tiny bathroom. Addison jumped back, hitting her head against the wall.

"Ow," she reached up and tugged on her ponytail.

"Sorry." Mark drew his knees up and crossed them in front of him. He leaned back against the shower curtain, staring upward.

She whined, and frowned, her forehead crinkling. She could practically hear him warning her about wrinkles, so she relaxed her face and settled for staring into space.

They waited for almost a minute. He realized nothing would move forward until one of them stopped being stubborn. "Okay. Let's not do this."

"Then act normal." She was glad that he spoke first and that hoped he still wanted her there. "Don't pretend to be a hot-shot womanizer. I'm not one of those girls you meet in bars."

He watched her fingers trace the cracks in the tile and then looked up at her. His expression became lighter, almost smiling, "You see right through me."

She grinned and rose up onto her knees to crawl closer to him. She liked that she knew her husband's best friend so well. She hadn't been able to connect to someone so closely for a while. "Yeah."

She wasn't so coordinated, walking on her knees, and she fell over. When she straightened herself up, she saw she was holding his hand, but she didn't try to pull it away. It was warm, and rough, and enveloping. Her fingers curled around his hand to touch his knuckles.

He leaned back, murmuring in content, drawing her on top of him. Before she knew it, their hands were joined on his shoulder, her knees in the space between his crossed legs. His chin could rest perfectly into her shoulder, but he resisted from touching her with his lips, or face. She looked down, at his ear, and then back at her legs. "Um. Mark. This isn't comfortable. Or friendly."

He tilted his head to observe her position. "You legs are long."

She reached back to massage her aching calves, and leaned so she wasn't resting on her knees anymore. "It comes with being tall." She rearranged herself so she mirrored him, sitting with her legs crossed.

He touched the red spots on her knees, rubbing them. He wasn't really looking at her, but she felt compelled to pull her dress farther down. Unintentionally, she exposed more cleavage and realized the double-edged sword of modesty and style. "Can we go…?" She pointed out the door of the cramped bathroom.

He nodded, and they both scooted into a kneeling position. Mark struggled to stand up and not kick her at the same time, almost pulling them both back down.

Addison laughed and asked, "When did we get so old?"

"I don't know," he chuckled.

Eventually, they both straightened up into a stable stance. Once again, Addison found her hand on his upper arm. It wasn't necessary anymore, but her fingers lingered, feeling his strength through his t-shirt. She wondered if he picked that kind of shirt on purpose, just to make her look.

Her fingertips drifted down his arm and barely tickled the crease of his elbow before dropping down to her side. His whole body twitched and he took a deep breath, pushing past her to leave the suddenly stuffy bathroom.

She followed him into the living room, where it was much easier to breathe. He stood with his back to her and she didn't make a move to catch his attention. Her wandering mind noticed the moonlight for the first time, shining on the eggshell colored carpet. She knew Mark couldn't have picked out that carpet. That was the work of Carolyn Shepherd.

She smiled at the thought of her mother-in-law. She loved Derek's family, Mark included. Lately, though, Mark and Nancy were the only Shepherds she'd seen in months, since Thanksgiving at least. They didn't get to drive up to Connecticut as much, because of work.

The loss of contact caused an ache to resonate in her chest. Mark was breathing more quickly, and she wondered if he was thinking about the same thing.

Fatigue hit her like she had slammed into a brick wall. In interest to find a soft surface, she moved behind him and let her feet thud against the carpet in order to make her presence known.

He heard her behind him, so he didn't jump when she brushed against his elbow.

"I'm tired," she mumbled, "I'm..hmm…sleep." She rubbed her eyes.

Mark gazed somewhere outside for a moment, and then jolted back to reality. "Yeah." He grabbed her and shook her awake. "You're staying, right?"

"I'm sleeping." Her eyes remained closed, and her hands stretched out in front of her body. "Where's the floor? It was just there a minute ago."

Completely disoriented, she tried to fall forward and lie down. He caught her, pulling her towards the bedroom. "Good. Because I wouldn't let you leave."

"Thanks." She was in his bed without knowing exactly how she got there. Her face pressed into the pillow for a few seconds, and she threw her arms down on it, propelling herself up. "I'm suffocating!"

"No, you're not."

A pair of sweat pants hit her face. "You're trying to suffocate me!"

"I'm trying to dress you."

Addison cracked her eyes open. The lights blinded her. "Oh!" She twisted to plant her face back into the pillow, but smacked her head against the wall instead. "Damn it!" she screamed.

"Uh-oh. Addison. Can you hear me?" She didn't respond. "Please don't have a concussion. Where's Derek when you need him?" Mark brushed her hair out of her face before deciding just to redo her ponytail. He pulled the scrunchy out gently and ran his fingers over her scalp until she stopped crying.

"I miss Derek." Her eyes opened, watery and red.

He wiped away the hot tears on her face. "Can I put these pants on you?" He held up a pair of large black sweatpants.

They looked so comfortable and soft, so Addison drew her feet up and poked her toes in. "Don't look."

Mark looked, but he did the rest of the work, bending her knees, pulling the pants up. "You want a t-shirt?"

Addison thought for a moment, and then felt the sheets under her hands. They were scratchy. "Yes."

Mark found a seemingly clean shirt on the floor, and held it to her. He examined the back of her dress, attempting to figure out how to get it off. "How do you want to take this thing off?"

"I don't think so." She pinched her nose and pulled the t-shirt over her head.

Mark threw the covers off of her, which allowed her to swing her legs over the side of the bed. He yanked down the dress, and stood back up. He helped her crawl back into bed. She rested, unmoving, and watched him as he reached to rub her foot.

His hand snapped back before their skin made contact. He repeated this again with her waist and her shoulder. Only when he grazed her hair did he actually touch her. He pulled her hair back with the scrunchy and she smiled. "Thanks."

"Yep." Mark shut off the light and climbed into bed with her.

Addison pulled the covers up over her and turned to face Mark. "Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

"No. Stay here." He faced her and rubbed her arm.

She tucked her hands under her cheek on the pillow. "I feel like this is kind of inappropriate. You're my husband's best friend. I shouldn't be here."

Even in the dark, she could see him struggling. He didn't want to say anything, and she felt badly that she had hurt his feelings.

He spoke slowly, trying to control his volume. "I miss him too." He gripped her arm tightly. "I haven't seen my best friend in three weeks. You remind me so much of him, and I just- I don't really talk to anyone else. So if you could just stay, that would be good."

She kept her legs closed. She didn't have sex with him, but she hugged him.

After that, they were inseparable for the rest of the night. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his circled her waist. They fell asleep like that, and only rolled over to sleep on their sides, but they didn't let go of each other.

* * *

Mark woke up early to make the pancakes, but as he finished mixing the batter, he decided to throw it out. Addison already felt like she was just another of his one night stands; the special treatment and pancakes would just make it worse.

He needed a real friend, and apparently Derek had deemed both of them unworthy of his presence. It was bullshit. They all knew it. Mark told himself that he would have to call Derek and confront him.

Later.

Right now, he wanted to make breakfast for the pretty redhead in his bed. He thought about eggs, but that would require too much effort. It might look like he tried too hard. So, he settled on cereal, pouring two bowls. It felt like a friendly gesture, no romance.

He didn't carry the bowls on his special breakfast-in-bed tray (the one with flowers, he wasn't ashamed to recognize.) But was difficult to balance them and a banana without spilling. He set them on his bedside table, and climbed back into bed.

Her legs squirmed against his at the movement on the mattress. She rolled halfway over to face him, but her eyes remained closed. They darted left to right under her eyelids. He wanted feel that against his lips. Bad idea, he knew.

But, God, she was a really beautiful woman. And Mark loved women. More than surgery. He loved the smooth skin on her arms, her pink lips, her legs. He really loved her hair. All that red, now a curly, tangly mess. The scrunchy was on the floor somewhere, and, for once, he didn't care. He wanted to just pull at the ends, and that t-shirt that he'd given her was turning out to be a big mistake. It was definitely creepy, but he couldn't stop staring at her boobs, stretching across his shirt. Had it shrunk in the night? Not possible. Maybe the morning light made it easier to see. Or maybe he just wasn't afraid to look, now that she was asleep.

He looked away; he couldn't do that to Derek. They were just normal boobs, he convinced himself. Nothing special about them. In fact, he'd probably get to see a better pair in the flesh that night. But he wanted to touch _these_. Right now.

He'd gotten so close last night. Then he fell asleep.

It would have to be sneaky, so he could claim that it was an accident if she woke up. He put his hand on her upper arm, almost wrapping around it. His thumb brushed the side of her arm, then the side of her body, then...

"Mark?"

He pulled his hand off of her quickly. "Uhhh..."

She squinted at him. "Have you been here the entire time?"

"Breakfast." Now that she was awake, it really hit him. This was Addison, Derek's wife, in his bed, her hair splayed across his pillow. "I brought you some cereal. You can have it whenever you want."

"Thanks." She looked cute in the morning. He'd seen her in the morning before, back when he still roomed with Derek, but she never even left the bedroom unless she combed her hair a little and wiped the leftover makeup from her eyes. "My back hurts," she complained, as if noticing all of a sudden. She turned on her side and reached behind her to feel the sore muscle. "I think I slept on it wrong."

He scooted closer, and she didn't say anything so he put his arm around her, the crook of his elbow resting nicely on her side. "Where does it hurt?" He pressed a little into the skin of her back.

"A little lower." He moved his fingers down the bumps of her spine utnil sher eyes closed. "Hmmm," she moaned.

A little hiccup of laughter escaped his mouth, and instantly he wished he could have taken it back.

"Okay." Her eyes snapped open, and she pushed away from him.

He wouldn't let go. "Stop," he begged, with a smile on his face. It wasn't his fault. He had to laugh- she was practically faking an orgasm in his arms.

She placed her hands against his chest and pushed again.

But he was stronger.

She hit him playfully. "Let me go! I'm embarrassed."

"Don't be." She relaxed and he put his hands back on her lower spine. "I promise I won't laugh again. It was funny only for a second. And it's my fault anyway. I haven't flipped the damn mattress in fifteen years."

"I don't even care anymore." She snuggled warmly into him. "Feels good."

"Good." He tried to keep up exactly what he was doing, moving his fingers in small circles against her (well, his) t-shirt.

After a few deep breaths, she looked up at him and admitted, "I acted like a child last night."

"It's fine." He meant it. He'd never hold something like that against her.

"I shouldn't have thrown a tantrum." Obviously, she'd thought about this a lot. He hoped she hadn't lost sleep over it. "I'm sorry."

She didn't have to be sorry, but it made him feel better that she thought of him, and how he might perceive her. At least he wasn't invisible. He wanted to be good friends with her, with real apologies and inside jokes and everything. "It's okay." He really didn't know what else to say.

"I really appreciated what you did last night. I'm glad you were at the party." She propped herself up on her elbow, but made sure that he could still reach her.

Mark couldn't believe it. Was this a girl who actually said what she was thinking? He thought he'd never find one. Well, the blonde women that shared his bed every other night usually said what they were thinking, but he didn't know if one-word commands counted as thoughts. He guessed he just had that effect on women.

Except for this one.

"Hey, you saved _me_. I would have ended up with a mindless married twenty-year-old if it weren't for you." He meant to cheer her up, that it was a good thing that she came home with him to watch Al Pacino, but somehow it sounded better in his head.

She smiled sadly. "Aw. I'm sorry." She lightly smacked herself in the forehead with her palm. "I completely crashed your date night. And you didn't even get lucky."

"That's not what-"

"I know." She held his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "But just because my husband ditched me for a ventriculostomy doesn't mean that you should have to give up sex on a Friday night."

"I didn't give up anything!" She was thinking the exact opposite of what he wanted her to think. He wanted her thoughts to be happy when she thought of him, not lonely because of his stupid best friend.

He really was just a substitute. "Please. I'd rather spend it with you." Wow, he really sounded like a woman now, actually admitting feelings and all.

"Okay." She touched his cheek in thought, and then tapped lightly on his chin. "Prickly. You need to shave." She let her legs drop out of the bed and stood up. "We're on for next weekend right? _Godfather II_?"

He was speechless for a second. "Yeah..." He shook the uncertainty off- Al Pacino was never uncertain. "Sounds good."

"As long as you don't mind." She winked.

He continued not to mind, but actually enjoy her presence through the next few weeks. After finishing the Godfather series, they needed more movies. Friday nights were their nights. They started only going to charity events and cutting out early. Addison got excited opening pretty envelopes with calligraphy, and Mark felt like all the money he'd been donating was making up for his past bad karma. But then they didn't even bother. Addison brought the pizza and Mark rented the movies, if he didn't have them already.

In the middle of _Righteous Kill_, Addison realized that this was the last movie. No more Al Pacino. They watched every movie, and stayed up late in the night. They talked, and joked, and apologized. Just like a real friendship.

And Derek never noticed.

* * *

A/N: All right. Random idea. I'm in a Maddison kind of mood and I just really want to write this story.

Best part? It never has to end!!! That's right: I have no sort of outline for this thing.

I'm so excited for the crossover. Except I hope it's not awful. Grey's has been disappointing me lately.

YAYAYAY for maddison! Review, please.


	2. Pushing to Stay with Something Better

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**How It Started**

Actually, it all started with Metallica.

It was late at night, after another Al Pacino movie, when Mark made Addison listen to his iPod.

Well, he didn't make her. He just offered to be polite, and she took it to be closer to him. For once, short headphone cords didn't make her cringe.

He carefully unwrapped the headphones, and handed her the tiny music player, saying, "You can choose the song."

It took her less than three seconds to scroll through his entire playlist. "Mark!" She sat up quickly to show him, as if he didn't already know, and in the process, yanked the earpice out of his ear, "You have less than 100 songs!" She didn't even recognize most of the song titles.

"I just got it!" He defended.

She laughed and scrolled through his artist list, "TWO artists?!" She held it up, and mockingly flipped between her two options. "Hmm...I wounder what I should choose- Metallica or Journey?"

"I should have warned you." He grabbed the iPod and stuffed it shamefully into the pocket of his sweatshirt. "I knew you wouldn't like it."

"I didn't say that." She crossed her arms. "You never let me listen to it. How would I know if I like it or not?"

"Forget it." He looked away, leaning back on the couch. "It's not your kind of music."

She couldn't have him thinking like that. She wanted to have more in common with him. "Come on, that's sexist. Let me listen to it."

"Okay." He reluctantly let her listen again. "Here."

For the next hour they listened to Metallica and read medical journals on the couch. Addison could feel every movement that he made- when he shifted closer to her, when he turned the page. It was easy for them to be together silently. Every once in a while, Journey played and Addison would take a break, singing and dancing. Mark didn't sing, but he twirled her around as best as he could.

After every song, Mark asked her her she liked it. At first, she lied, telling him that she liked every song. It was such a girlish move, pretending to be interested in something so he would like her, but it just came naturally to her. She liked to surprise him, and he seemed to be so happy, showing her something new.

Of course, after her approval of ten Metallica songs, he figured it out and called her out on it. "You don't really like any of these, do you?"

She laughed, "It's not horrible."

He wasn't willing to forgive her so easily, and turned off the music. "You don't like it."

"Yes I do." Her breath came faster as she tried to cover her ground.

"Don't lie to me then."

She felt horrible, guilt sinking into her stomach. She wasn't supposed to feel like this, with all the complicated emotion. "I'm sorry. I really do like some of it. the music is nice. The vocals are just- kind of scream-y."

"Okay," He said, without conviction. He shifted over on the couch and then stood up, as if he couldn't stand to sit with her anymore. "Want to go to bed?"

"It's nine o'clock!" She couldn't believe that they were doing this. These past few weeks their friendship had been so simple; maybe they had it coming all along. "And you're mad at me."

"I'm tired." He left her in the living room and disappeared into the bedroom.

"Seriously?" She muttered to herself before dragging her feet into the bedroom.

He had stripped down to his boxers and another one of those white t-shirts that she loved.

"Don't run away." She placed her hand strategically on her hip, trying to seem like she had a little more control. He smiled slightly, making fun of the gesture, so she dropped her hand to her side. "Why are you so mad?"

"I'm not mad," he claimed and patted on the bed. "Come to bed."

"No." She remained still at the doorway. "We're friends and we promised each other that we would be honest."

"You weren't honest," he reminded her, climbing into bed and pulling the cover over himself. The sheets tucked just under his chin and she just wanted to snuggle next to him like always. He closed his eyes and turned over on his stomach. "Will you shut the lights off?"

She complied and tiptoed to the foot of the bed. "Mark?" She pressed her hands on his legs through the comforter. "Mark?" He didn't say anything or move. She crawled on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his heavy body under hers. He wasn't paying attention at all, until she mistakenly grabbed his thigh.

"Addison. Get off."

It was all too familiar.

He pulled her hand away from his leg and tilted his body slightly so she fell onto the other side of the bed. He kept her hand in his, though, holding it close to his chest. It wasn't particularly comfortable for her, sitting up, her hand buried underneath his chest. She lay down and it was a little better. "I think we need to talk about this."

"I'm sleeping." He turned, pressing his face into the pillow.

She rested her other hand on top of his back, and whispered into his ear, "I don't think I did anything wrong."

"Addison!" She watched his entire body tense and raise up. He looked at up with a pained expression and took a deep breath before he spoke, "I'm not going to do this. Maybe you and Derek talk about feelings and pretend to like each other, but I can't do that to you. I'm not your husband."

She sighed, not knowing what to say. She raised her hand and brushed the back of her fingers over his forehead. "All right." She slid off the bed and into the living room to collect her journals and clothes.

He immediately followed her. "Where are you going?"

"To find my husband." She stacked her medical journals neatly into a pile and slipped them into her briefcase.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess I have to let you go then."

She glanced up at him for a moment and had to double take. His hair stuck out in all directions; his eyes squinted. He was actually tired. "Oh. Yeah." She put on her coat and slung the strap over her shoulder. "Thanks." She felt that they needed a stronger goodbye, like a hug or a kiss.

She gave a fleeting thought to appropriateness, murmuring, "See you tomorrow..." Her fingers grazed him somewhere on his torso as she headed out the door.

He caught the door before it shut. "Wait." He poked his head through the door. "Just stay." He tilted his head, trying to seem cute, but it banged against the door.

She smiled anyway.

"Stay. Come back."

She shook her head and left.

* * *

She didn't see him again for a week.

It was the welcoming dinner for the new interns, and she knew he would be there, which made her nervous. She didn't know if he would be mad or sad, or if he wanted to pretend like nothing had happened.

It would be awkward, and she absolutely dreaded going, much like every year since she became an attending.

At least Derek was required to go and she wouldn't have to pretend like Mark was her husband again.

She was looking forward to that part. Getting all dressed up, eating at a fancy dinner with her husband. Spending time with him. All the things she'd been missing lately.

Most of all, she wanted to make up with Mark, so they could talk and have fun again. They didn't exactly need to make up, though, because they didn't exactly have a fight.

But they hadn't spoken in days, and she could stop listening to Metallica.

"Bleeding Me" blasted through her earphones as she applied her make-up, waiting for Derek so they could leave for the dinner. She sat in front of the mirror in her bedroom, gazing at her reflection.

She thought she looked pretty enough to be presentable. Her hair was curled into a loose bun at the back of her head, and her flowing black dress curled around her calves. It was just low-cut enough to distract Derek, and hopefully hold his attention for more than four minutes.

She brushed a few stray wisps of hair back behind her ears, and Derek entered the room. She smiled at him though the mirror and turned down the music. "Ready to go?"

He came up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. They looked like one of those eighteenth century couples posing for an oil painting. He bent down and kissed her hair. "Yes. Let's go."

They took a cab, instead of taking their separate cars for once. She sat uncomfortably close for the first few minutes, until he gave in and wrapped his arm around her back. She turned her head all of a sudden to ask him a question, and her nose poked his cheek.

She laughed, "Sorry."

He took it as a cue to move away.

She looked down and tried not to pick at her fingernails. She attempted to ask her question again, "Have you seen Mark lately?"

"Yeah," It took Derek a moment to remember. "Oh- he asked about you. Did something happen?"

"What?" Oh, God. He knew. He could tell what Addison had been thinking.

"Did he say something inappropriate again? Addie- you're just going to have to get used to it. He's my best friend, and he's not going to go away anytime soon. You'd think after nine years..."

"He didn't say anything," she interrupted quickly. She prayed silently, thankful that he didn't know the truth. She couldn't imagine what Derek would think if he knew she'd been spending every Friday night with Mark. Maybe he wouldn't care about the movie-watching, but he'd throw a fit if he knew that she'd been sleeping in his bed.

"You guys can talk about it tonight. He'll be there."

She knew that already, but she wanted to talk to Derek. She predicted that he would get a page in the middle of dinner and then leave her with Mark again. She looked at him as he looked out the window. He'd never see her again.

She gave one last feeble attempt, "Do you like this dress?" She batted her eyes and modeled for him so he could see straight down her cleavage.

He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. "Yeah. You look pretty."

It was enough, though she had expected a bigger reaction. She was used to being disappointed, like he was used to seeing her in revealing dresses.

They arrived soon after, and she stepped out of the car first. Immediately, she searched for Mark. It was stupid; there was no one else on the street, but she still looked, hoping he'd be arriving at the same time as them.

Derek paid the driver and held out his arm to her. She took it, glad that they would look like a couple to the rest of the hospital.

They entered the reception hall and were instantly bombarded with compliments and conversation with colleagues. Loud music blared from speakers at the back of the room, drowning out most of their voices. A few brave (or lightweight) interns had managed to sway on the dance floor, pressed sweatily against each other.

"Is that how the kids are dancing these days?" Addison giggled at them.

Derek laughed along with her. "I guess so. It's embarrassing."

"Why don't we show them how it's done?" She tried to pull him towards the dance floor.

He yanked his hand away from her, glaring. "You know I don't dance."

She tried to play cute, sauntering back up to him, eyeing him seductively. "You dance at home..."

"I said no, Addie." He didn't seem to be that angry, but she didn't feel like having to work that hard to get her husband to dance. He pointed to the dining area, "Look. There's Mark. Go talk to him and save me a seat. I'll be over in a few minutes, after I talk to the chief."

"Okay." It was so familiar that it almost felt like deja-vu. Mark was watching her, a hopeful look in his eyes. Derek left her in the middle of the room, and she bit her lips and looked around. All of the twenty-some interns were eyeing Mark. Her Mark. Who was watching her. She strutted confidently over to him, making sure his eyes stayed on her.

"Hey gorgeous." He raised his eyebrows in an effort not to stare.

Suddenly, she felt much better. "Hi. You're not supposed to say that kind of stuff, remember?"

"I was just observing." He grabbed the glass of wine in front of him and took a sip. His eyes wandered around the room nervously.

"Thank you." She sat down in the seat next to him. "Why are you sitting alone?"

"I don't really like any of these people." He glanced with disgust at the mass of people crowded around the doorway, greeting newcomers.

Addison twisted her neck around to see a particularly ambitious woman with bleached-blonde flaunting a bit of thigh obviously displayed for Mark. She frowned, and turned back to him. "Everyone seems to like you. Especially all these women."

"Really?" Mark smiled arrogantly, and looked around, seeing the room in a new light.

She hit him in the shoulder, and he winced. "Ow. What was that for?"

"Nothing." It was selfish, but she wanted him to talk to her, not the slutty blonde woman.

"Are you jealous?" His jaw dropped in fake surprise and he laughed.

"A little." She blushed and felt her face heat up. It was awful, knowing that he could see her embarrassment.

"You know you're my favorite girl in the room." He wrapped an arm around her upper back and squeezed to reassure her. "You're the most...." He couldn't say it.

She stopped him before he tried again. "Thank you." She paused. "Just don't leave me here by myself. Please."

He seemed shocked at the degree of fear in her voice, but he lightened the tone of his voice to make her laugh. "I could never leave you." He gestured around the room. "None of these other women would watch Al Pacino movies with me. They wouldn't listen to Metallica with me."

"They would have sex with you." She stared at the edge of the table.

"Yeah, they would."

Addison rolled her eyes.

"But I would rather stay here with you, if you'll let me." He leaned forward, rested his elbows on the tables, and clasped his hands in front of his face.

She leaned forward to mirror him, her eyes shiny. "Mark..."

"Addison..." He scooted and moved his elbow to move closer. "I-"

She pressed a finger to his lips, and realized how soft they were. She traced his bottom lips with the tip of her finger, and lingered too long to be considered friendly. "Don't say it. Let's just think for a moment."

"Okay." They stared into each others' eyes for a few minutes before someone nearby cleared their throat.

Addison jumped in her seat. It was James Collins, one of the cardiology attendings. "Am I interrupting?" he asked.

"No," she answered. "Of course not."

"Actually, you are." Mark leaned back in his chair. "We were having a moment."

"We weren't," Addison told him.

"How are you, Dr. Sloan?" Collins asked him politely.

"Fine. How are you, Dr. Collins?" There was a certain exaggerated formality to his voice, and Addison did not appreciate it.

Collins shifted his feet, and bypassed the sarcastic response. "Excellent. And you, Addison?"

"I'm fantastic." She didn't mean to sound like she was making fun of him, but it came out that way.

"And ravishing," Mark added.

Addison blushed again. "Stop it, Mark."

"He's not lying." Collins adjusted his glasses, and admired her. "You look beautiful."

Addison did not like where this was going. She felt like she was back in the tenth grade, when she told Adam Walker that she wouldn't go to homecoming with him because she wanted to go with Kyle Cooper, who never asked her. "Thank you."

"Could I- um- have the pleasure-" Collins adjusted his glasses again. "-um- of a dance with you?"

Mark couldn't hold back a booming laugh. Addison simply stared at him for a minute, not knowing what to say. "I- I promised Derek the first dance. Do you know where he is?"

Collins gestured towards the mass of people. "He's busy, talking to the chief."

"Oh, well, I think I'll just wait here for him and I'll find you later, okay?" Addison tried to be as nice as possible.

It worked. Collins nodded happily. "Okay, Addison. I'll talk to you later."

He left Mark and Addison sitting at the table by themselves. Mark shook his head. "You aren't actually going to dance with him, are you?"

"I might." Addison looked into the crowd, trying to find Derek. "Derek won't dance with me."

"I'll dance with you," Mark offered. "The whole night."

"Okay." Addison grabbed his wine and finished it. "We need more drinks."

Mark pointed to the dancing interns. The number of inebriated guests had grown since Addison had first arrived. There were now more people on the dance floor, moving their bodies to the music. "You have to dance with me like that."

"Like that?" Addison raised her eyebrows incredulously. "What do you even call that?"

"Grinding," he replied. "It's very sexy and fun and you'll love it."

"It's not dancing!" she exclaimed in protest.

"Fine." He gave up. "Let's get a few more drinks in you." He left to get more drinks for them.

Someone tapped Addison on the shoulder. She whipped around.

It was the sultry blonde from before. "Excuse me?"

Addison grinned smuggly. She wasn't about to lose Mark to an intern now that she had him wrapped around her finger.

The blonde eyed Mark's empty seat. "I was just wondering- are you with the guy who was sitting there?"

Addison hesitated- it would be wrong to lie. Mark wasn't hers to claim. But she couldn't stand the thought of Mark with another woman, much less, another lonely night without him. She rested her arm along the back of his chair. "He's going home with me, if that's what you mean." It was catty and unprofessional, but she didn't care. It wasn't exactly professional that this woman wanted to get into her superior's pants.

"Is that a wedding ring?" The blonde crinkled her unblemished forehead in confusion.

Addison tried to hold back unkind thoughts as she covered her left hand with her other hand, feeling the rock dig into her palm. The woman was just trying to make Addison feel guilty about sitting with Mark.

Addison was just about to make up an excuse when Mark came up from behind her and sat down. "Meet a new friend?" he asked her, his amused expression revealing sexual connotations in the question. He handed her a glass of wine.

She turned towards him, stroked his chest lightly, and looked up at him with her best puppy dog eyes. "Mark. You're taking me home tonight, right?"

He paused for a moment, and looked at the blonde, taking in her shiny, curly bob and the curve of her hips. Addison, frightened out of her mind that he might actually say no, yanked on the collar of his shirt, bringing his eyes down to hers.

At this, she knew there was no contest. His eyes twinkled a bit, letting her know that he was only playing when it came to the blonde, and she relaxed.

He turned his head and squinted at the blonde, as if he were having a hard time deciding. "What's your name?"

"Gina." She held out her hand to him. "I'm a neurology intern."

Addison held her breath. Gina probably knew who Derek was, and maybe, who she was. Gina would be one of those interns who made her husband laugh during surgery, like Addison could on the off-chance they actually had a surgery together. But Gina would also inflate his ego, something Addison refused to do.

And it was just another reason that Derek would rather stay at the hospital than at home.

"You're Dr. Shepherd's wife?" Gina asked.

Apparently, Mark had mentioned something about Derek, and Addison had missed it. "Yes," she said uncertainly. "I am."

She pointed at Addison, her eyebrows raised in sudden realization. "I think I saw you! I watched one of his surgeries in med school, and you were in the observation room."

"I watch all of his surgeries." It came out a little harsher than Addison had intended, and afterwards she attempted to soften her expression so she didn't come off as a cold-hearted bitch.

"Oh. So you're just friends?" Gina gestured between Mark and Addison.

How the hell did they get back to talking about Mark and Addison? Gina was a conversational wizard, Addison decided. That must have been how she got through med school. She couldn't say anything, but just let a swig of wine swish down her throat.

Mark watched her and took a sip of his wine as well before answering, "Yes." He paused. "How about I talk to Derek? Get you in on a surgery?"

That was her Mark, his answer to tough situations was bribery. She took another sip of wine.

Mark continued his persuasive argument to get Gina to leave, "... and I promised him that I'd take Addison home tonight, but I'd love to go out some other time."

She already had the piece of paper in her hand, and she gave it to him. "Call me sometime."

He smiled and stuck the piece of paper in his pocket. "I will."

When Gina was out of sight, Addison made a gagging sound. She was glad that Mark hadn't bought into Gina's act (yet) and that she could still go home with him.

"Stop." He grabbed the bottom of her chair and pulled her closer. "You didn't actually think I would desert you, did you?"

"I don't know." She thought about how she could never give Mark everything he wanted, and how he looked at Gina. She needed to win him over, "I was hoping you'd stay." She just wanted him to lean in and kiss her.

He didn't, but he came awfully close. "You didn't stay when I asked you to."

Yes. She knew she was a hypocrite and she tried to justify it by claiming obligation to her husband. It was a weak argument, supporting the fact that Mark could leave her whenever he wanted.

But he was, in fact, more faithful than her.

She only had one option: apologize and explain. "I'm sorry. You wouldn't talk to me and I was scared."

He sighed, almost annoyed with her excuse. "But I was tired and it was such a stupid fight."

"Yeah." She supposed that made sense. Or maybe the alcohol was making her thought-process a little hazy.

"I talk about important stuff. If you do something to really piss me off, I'll tell you." He tilted his head forward, so their noses were almost bumping. It was her favorite place to be, as if she was so close that she could see inside his thoughts.

He continued, "I don't think that we should waste time arguing over stupid things when we could be enjoying each others' company."

She took a deep breath and stated, "That is very smart. Let's do that now."

He turned his head to look at her empty glass of wine. "How much did you drink Addison?"

She definitely wasn't drunk. Or tipsy. But maybe a little dizzy and silly. She always acted like a child after a few drinks. "Just that one. And the one before. And I had one at home," she counted and smiled. Home made her think of Derek. "Where's my husband?"

"I don't know." He looked around for Derek, but couldn't find him.

She placed her hands on his upper thighs and hoisted herself into his lap. It was crowded, in between the table, but she felt much safer. Mark was warm and nice to be around.

"This isn't good," he whispered. "You don't want to do this."

Yes, she did. "We're not doing anything," she claimed, perched on his knees. "When's dinner?" Her stomach had started to growl an hour ago.

He picked her up by the hips and placed her back into her own chair.

No. She wanted to be near him. She reached for him, and he grabbed her hands, clasping them near her shoulders. Her forehead fell forehead until it made contact with his, and she stared at him. "Mark. Derek's probably already left," she realized out loud.

"I'm here." Derek appeared out of nowhere and sat down in the chair on Addison's other side. "What the hell are you two doing?"

"Playing a game." Addison found that she was much better at lying when under the influence of alcohol. She let go of Mark's hands and turned her entire body towards Derek. "Where have you been?"

"Making small talk..." Derek stared at Addison as she smiled slyly and slid forward in her chair. She fell into Derek and kissed him.

Derek shoved her back in her chair. "Wow. You have had too much to drink. And you're horny. Mark, what did you do?"

Mark looked away in denial. "I didn't do anything."

"Were you at least watching her?" Derek wiped his mouth on a nearby napkin.

"I'm not a babysitter," Mark said as he handed her a glass of water and a few crackers from the baskets in the middle of the table. "If you weren't too busy brown-nosing the chief..."

Addison threw her napkin down on the table and stood up. "I can take care of myself!" She began a fast-paced walk to the hallway, afraid that if she went any slower, she'd lose her balance.

Mark caught her by the arm.

"Don't stop me!" She tried to push him away. "Especially when you treat me like a child in front of my husband. Can't you stand up for me for once?"

"Fine." He let her go. "But dinner is starting and I know you're hungry."

He was right. "Fine." She trudged back to the table with him, and proceeded not to speak for the rest of the meal, in fear of sounding drunk and annoying her husband.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so this is part 1. It was originally 1 whole chapter, but I like to update faster. The next part is better. This is all really just exposition.

So **Spoiler for the next chapter**: Addison is not really that lightweight.

You'll see. It's good. Kind of sad, but it works. And there's a lot more Maddison.

Okay. Reviews would be appreciated.


	3. Digging my way to something better

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**How It Started**

Mark scraped at his dish of creme brulee for one last bite and watched Addison pick at hers with a fork. She'd been exceptionally quiet throughout the entire meal while Derek chatted away with the other doctors seated at their table.

It worried him.

It had been a long time since he'd seen the two of them together, and their mannerisms toward each other had changed. Derek wasn't really talking to her at all, but occasionally, he rubbed her knee or her hand under the table to acknowledge her presence.

Mark couldn't deny that even just that small display of affection bothered him, especially after all the time they'd been spending together. Right now, he didn't want to deal with the morality of the fact that he might have the teenist crush on his best friend's wife. He turned a blind eye to her marital status, just like he did with every other married woman he fucked.

This was becoming increasingly difficult with her marital status right in front of him, laughing and making a joke.

He ached to take her home and spend the next few hours sitting peacefully on the couch. No one would notice their absence, not even Derek.

He was about to mention this to her when Derek's pager beeped.

Derek looked down and groaned. "Ugh. I have to go."

Mark didn't understand why Derek pretended that going to the hospital was such a chore. If he didn't love being there, he'd be home more often.

Addison looked like she was about to cry, sniffling and shaking slightly.

Derek watched her, more carefully than usual. "Do you want to come with me? If it's something that a resident can take care of, I'll spend the night with you in an on-call room."

Mark could have smacked him across the face at the moment. He kicked one of the legs of the table to release some of the energy. The entire table shook, jarring glassware, and causing everyone to look at him, including Addison who'd been spacing out for a half hour.

"Sorry," He made a face and reached down to massage his leg in faux pain. "Leg spasm."

"Ouch. I hate those." Addison instinctively stretched her arm out so their hands joined at the back of his knee. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Why did she have to care about him? And her fingers felt so wonderful tickling him at that exact spot.

"Addie?" Derek spoke, taking her away from him. "Ready to go?" He stood and placed his hand on the back of Addison's chair. "As long as you're okay, Mark, from your...leg spasm. I'm sure it hurt _a lot_. " His lips spread in a goofy grin, and Mark definitely did not appreciate the sarcasm.

Derek noticed that Mark wasn't smiling, and patted him on the back. "You know I'm kidding. Just stay off of it for a while." He leaned in to whisper to Mark. "And try not to get too lucky."

Mark laughed, genuniely happy that his friendship with Derek hadn't changed as much as Derek's marriage had. Maybe they could get back to where they were before Derek started being absent.

Derek tugged on Addison's arm. "Let's goooo..."

At least Addison looked at Mark before she left, her eyes pleading innocent. She consciously knew that she was abandoning him.

He shook his head in disbelief, angry that she wasn't even going to try to stay with him. Mark never would have guessed that Addison could be so submissive, especially after all that work she put forth to ward off the hot blonde- Tina, was it? Well, he supposed he could go and find her ready and willing to sleep with him, but it wouldn't be the same as Addison.

Derek started walking to the doors. "I'll get our coats. Wait here. I'll be back."

As soon as he was gone, Mark turned toward to Addison. "What are you doing?"

"I have to go." She appeared to be upset, but it didn't make him feel any better.

"Can't I just have one dance?" He watched her eyelashes flutter, and he knew he needed more than one dance with her.

"T-that would be good." She stuttered nervously. "Until Derek gets back."

She allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor when it seemed that none of the interns had ever taken a break for dinner.

He brought her into his arms and she was just tall enough that her chin could rest against his shoulder. He wished they could stay like this forever. He tried to told tight and enjoy every second, but his eyes kept wanderinig towards the door, where Derek would enter momentarily. He closed his eyes to stop his sense of time, and the DJ switched the songs.

It was Metallica's "Enter Sandman", and Mark's very first sign from God. He knew he couldn't let her leave now. He turned her in his hand, and pressed her backside hard against his thighs. He stared moving to the music, and held her in place. It took her a moment, but she followed his lead. He pulled her deeper into the crowd, so they couldn't be seen. They blended well, as everyone else was dancing like that.

But it was hot and sweaty and Mark could barely breathe. His fingers pressed against her stomach, and he could feel the smooth silk of her dress. He just wanted to grab a handful of that fabric at the skirt, but he settled for holding her tighter.

She was hot too, evident by the moisture on the back of her neck. He growled frustration into her ear, so that only she could hear, which made her move harder against him.

He wasn't ever going to let her go, not after everyone had left. He almost found the courage to kiss her neck.

But then he saw Derek, who had pushed through all the grinding interns to see Mark and Addison.

It felt like his stomach had leaped into his throat.

* * *

When Addison saw her husband, she knew it was going to be a long night.

He already had his coat on, and was holding hers, shaking it impatiently.

She almost forgot about Mark, dancing behind her, until his hand moved down to her hips, letting her know she wasn't going anywhere.

Not that she wanted to leave. The smell of his cologne mixed with sweat was absolutely intoxicating. His white shirt scratched against her bare arms, but the way he held her- she'd been longing to be touched like that for weeks. She held up her pointed finger, indicating to Derek that she wanted one more minute of feeling like she was worth something.

Derek didn't take it well, throwing her coat violently onto another table and stomping out of the room.

She tore away from Mark, leaving him in the middle of the crowd. She grabbed her coat and ran after Derek. "Wait!"

It wasn't until they were in a secluded part of the hallway that Derek finally turned around. "If you wanted to come, you shouldn't have been off gallivanting with Mark. Why did you hide from me?"

"I wasn't hiding," she protested. Mark had led her away from sight, for reasons unknown.

He paced the hallway, like he always did when he was nervous or upset. "I had to look for you. This is what I get, for wanting to spend time with my wife."

She wanted to make him see how self-righteous he was being, but she knew he wouldn't understand. Placing her hand on his chest, she stopped him from moving, "I really appreciate the 'effort' you are making, but I don't want to be with you out of convenience."

His eyes were wide with hurt. "Why were you dancing with Mark?"

"You wouldn't dance with me!" She threw her hands up in aggravation. Couldn't he be just a little empathetic?

"So you picked the next best thing? How many times do I have to tell you, Addie? I don't like to dance! And it would be nice if you respected that for once." He pulled his blackberry out of his pocket and checked the time. "We _have_ to go now."

She ignored him. "Do you ever think about me? Ever? Because I want to stay and dance." She crossed her arms. He had no right to be jealous if he wasn't going to even try to make her happy.

"Dance like that? You looked like a slut." He shook his head as if he were embarrassed by her actions.

Addison felt the color rise in her chest and cheeks out of fury and humility. She couldn't open her mouth or she would scream at him and everyone would hear about their marriage troubles, even over the loud music.

He surprised her by taking a long stride towards her and kissing her close-mouthed.

They didn't move or breathe for a while. She started to feel light-headed and bored, so she pulled away.

He caught his breath, saying, "Can you be less selfish, just for tonight, and come with me?"

Addison pinched her bottom lip, and stared at him. He didn't love her. When people were in love, they didn't purposely hurt each other or use physical affection to get their way. She made her decision, "I can't go with you."

"Okay." He nodded and she thought she saw his eyes water.

She hadn't meant to make him cry. "I'll see you tommorrow, at the hospital. We'll do something," she offered.

He thought for a moment, staring into space, and then warned her, "Don't dnace with Mark." He still refused to look at her. "I know he'd never try anything, but when that guy gets sex in his head..." His voice trailed off and he grazed his knuckle against the back of her hand, as if anything else would be inappropriate. "Get home safely. I love you."

At this point, she didn't know if that was the truth or not. She kissed him on the cheek. "Love you too." She almost followed him, out of habit, and she stayed in the hallway until she couldn't see him anymore.

After a few minutes of thinking and standing, she made her way back to the banquet, but everything seemed slower and heavier than before. To her surprise, Mark was waiting just outside the door. He'd put the black jacket of his suit back on and stuffed his hands in the pockes. "You stayed," he observed.

She motioned to the door as she shuffled towards him. "Did anyone hear?"

"No," he smiled at her, "Damn music's too loud to hear yourself think."

She twisted her fingers together and looked up at him. "Did you hear?" She hoped not.

He shook his head. "Didn't want to."

"Good." She took a deep breath and tried to recollect herself so she could enjoy the rest of the party.

"Why? Did something happen?" His hands strained against his pockets.

She considered telling him what Derek had said. She knew Mark would side with her decision, but he'd be angry with Derek. And she didn't want them to risk their lifelong friendship over her. "We talked and I decided to stay here."

"Did he say something mean?" Mark watched her cautiously, as if analyzing every move she made.

In response, she threw her coat on a table and walked back to the dance floor to wait for him. She wasn't about to lie to Mark when Derek was the asshole.

Metallica wasn't playing anymore; it had been replaced by another slow R&B song. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hoisted herself up to bury her face into the shoulder of his jacket. He held her hand against his chest, letting her feel his pounding heart.

She couldn't get Derek out of her head, and felt her throat closing up at the thought of choosing Mark over her husband. It was wrong, completely out of character for her. Her face grew hot and her sight, clouded. Hating the sounds she made when she cried, she bit softly into Mark's jacket to muffle them. The rough material scraped against her tongue and tears seeped out of her eyes. No one noticed.

She opened her mouth a little to breathe and a moan escaped. She took her mouth off of him and wiped the saliva off his jacket. Mark twitched against her and the hand that had been resting on her low, low back slid upward to between her shoulder blades.

She knew he could feel her sobbing, and she felt guilty. It wasn't fair that he had to give up a night of great sex for an emotional, crying woman. She wasn't being any fun. In effort to be less boring, she tried to focus on happy thoughts.

"Are you okay?" He whispered. "Do you want to go home?"

She tensed her body to stop shaking. "No." She gripped his arm tighter and moved her face so their cheeks touched.

"I'm going to kill him for making you cry..."

"I'm not," she lied. This was exactly what she didn't want to happen.

"Then why is your face wet?" He stepped back a little to look at her, and locked his hands together just above her ass. It was dark, but he could still see her red-rimmed eyes.

With her newly freed hand, she touched his shoulder and subconsciously massaged it. "I'm okay. I promise." She tried to pull him back so he couldn't see her face.

His arms remained rigid. "Let's just stay like this for a minute."

She sniffled, but held eye-contact with him. Her gaze traveled over the side of his jaw, past his lips, and down his neck.

He brought his hand up to touch her face, and used his thumb to brush under her eyes. It was so relaxing that her eyelids drooped.

He said something so quietly that she didn't hear. She figured that he hadn't meant her to. He curled his arms around her waist, drawing her very close and locking her in. He lifted her on the balls of her feet and she rested her hand on his upper back.

They just danced like that for a while. She liked the feeling of being pressed up against him as close as possible. Another couple of slow songs played and she almost forgot about Derek.

But then a faster song began to play, and Mark grabbed one of her hands from his shoulder. He spun her around, standing behind her, and pressed her back against him, facing the other direction. She stood, stiff, unmoving and silent.

He tugged at her hips, reminding her to dance. "Come on."

"No thanks." She held onto his hands very loosely, and stayed still.

Other people began to bump into them, as they weren't following the beat. He used his strength to force her to sway, and she complied, for a minute or so. It wasn't like before. She was cold and somehow she'd become immune to his touch. Blindly, she pushed through the crowd, placing her hands on top of his to slide them off her body.

She felt him follow behind her, but she was smaller and could fit through the bumping bodies more easily. She was just out of the crowd when she felt a hand grab at her ass. Mark was there when she turned around, "Sorry. Didn't mean to..."

"Mark!" She yelled, this time, in front of everyone. "I said, 'No'!"

He stood startled, holding his hands up. Some people glanced at them, but most didn't notice. "Addison. I didn't-"

"No !" She ran, as well as she could, towards the bar. She couldn't look back at him because she knew he'd be sad. He really didn't do anything wrong, but she kept hearing Derek's voice in her head and she had to get a drink.

It wasn't far enough. He could still see her, but he wasn't following this time. She ordered a double scotch and hoped it would sooth her twisting stomach. The bartender winked at her, "Rough night?"

She let the liquid burn down her throat. "Yeah."

"I've had a few rough nights."

She looked up. He was cute. She rarely noticed cuteness on men anymore. She knew Mark was rugged, and Derek was dreamy, and every other guy- she just stopped paying attention. "Can I have another?"

"Sure," he laughed and poured. "What's your name?"

"Addi-idison." She took a sip this time, trying to make it last longer.

"Cool. I'm John." He made a motion to the other bartender.

She hunched over, suddenly exhausted. "I'm so tired."

He patted down next to him. "I gotta stool back here."

She looked over to the nearest table. She didn't think she could make it before she fell asleep. Using her arms, she pushed against the counter, drink in hand and dragged her feet. "Is it okay if I sit there?"

He helped her sit. "Wow, you are really sleepy."

She supposed all of this mess with Mark was catching up with her. She usually didn't stay up this late anyway, and after spending an hour dancing, it seemed reasonable that she would be tired. Not to mention all the emotional stress and alcohol.

He gave her the drink. "Here, sip this."

"Thank you." Oh, it wasn't her drink. But it was a wonderful fruity taste. "Can you just...hmmm?" She rested her head against him, and his beard tickled the top of her forehead.

Her eyelids drooped, and she searched for Mark. She needed to be taken home. "My friend..."

He was gone.

* * *

A/N: This is soooo long. There's only one more part. I promise.

I guess nothing really happened this chapter again, but a lot will happen next chapter. It's a big resolution!!

Thanks for reading!


	4. Make me pure, bleed me a cure

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**How it Started**

Mark hid in a corner, trying to seem invisible for once in his life. Despite all his efforts to seem like a creepy lurker, a few women began to make eyes at him. He smiled, but now it took too much effort to pretend. He was really looking for someone else.

He couldn't see Addison, and it bothered him.

But she needed space.

It really was an accident. He'd meant to seize an arm or a hip, but all those damn interns were blocking his view. When he reached out...well, he touched her...on the ass, no less. Grabbed, pinched, goosed, actually. She was so soft, and he wanted to do it again, which was completely inappropriate.

Sometimes, he wished he could just start clean with her. No baggage, no reputations. If she hadn't known about his track record with women, she'd think of him differently, the way he wanted her to. She'd trust him and believe in him.

He couldn't do it. He had to see her, even though she wanted to be away from him. A few people were still dancing, making a perfect hiding spot. But he wouldn't dance alone.

He saw a pretty brunette sitting alone at a table. All he had to do was offer his hand to her and smirk, and she took the bait. The view from the dance floor was perfect. Addison hunched over the bar, as if her legs were too weak to hold her body up.

_Oh, God. I'm turning into one of those creepy stalkers. _He diverted his eyes, but slowly found himself staring at her again.

He needed to go over there and take her home. She didn't want him to, though. She probably never wanted to see him again. It actually felt like that most of the time, but she made up for it when she let her guard down and snuggled with him or laughed at something no one else would find funny. In those moments he hoped that she might be falling in love with him.

The time flew by when he was thinking of her. Before he knew it, several songs had passed and the brunette became more aggressive. She danced like Addison wouldn't, but Mark couldn't hold her as close. It wasn't personal.

He checked his cell phone. The banquet would end soon, and he should make sure Addison got home all right before he screwed the brunette in the bathroom.

He turned them around until he could see the bar again. Addison was gone. Completely absent.

_She's probably in the bathroom or something._ Still, he felt obligated to make sure.

He ran his hand up the brunette's thigh, and pressed into her. "I gotta go make sure my buddy made it home. Wait for me?"

"Awww!" She kissed Mark's cheek. "That's so nice of you! Of course, I'll be right here."

He let go of her, and she started spinning around in circles. He figured she'd be okay while he looked for Addison.

He searched around the empty bar and marveled at how fast the place cleared out. The interns were probably preparing for their first forty-eight hour shift. Mark certainly didn't miss those days.

He dialed her phone number as he exited the banquet hall. Hearing her voice mail left him with a sense of foreboding.

He called Derek instead.

For once, he answered. "Hello?"

"Are you busy?"

"What do you want?"

"Umm." He paced the hallway, running his hand along the bumpy wallpaper. "I lost Addison."

"You lost her? Where did she go?" Derek's voice squeaked in concern.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be calling you. Is she at the hospital?" Mark knocked on the door of the women's bathroom. No response.

"I don't think she's here." Derek paused to ask a few bystanders if they'd seen his wife. "Yeah. No one's seen her. I thought you were going to watch her."

Mark didn't understand how Derek could just pass his wife along like that. Addison didn't need a babysitter; she needed a proper husband. _Still, it's my fault that she wandered off._ "She got upset and needed some space."

"Upset because of me?" Derek asked.

Mark didn't know. It was probably both of them; she was trying so hard to make them happy. "I'm not sure."

"Did you dance with her?"

_Kind of a weird question_, Mark thought. "Yeah. Is that okay?" He never thought Derek would get jealous. After all, he refused to dance and then left her there with Mark.

"I told her not to," Derek huffed, annoyed.

Maybe Mark wasn't the only one feeling guilty. He supposed he should apologize. Being on Derek's good side would be beneficial if he ever found out how Addison was spending her Friday nights. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't know."

"It's okay. If you find her, tell her I'm not mad at her." He paused, "Was she drinking?"

"A bit," Mark remembered her getting a little tipsy, but she seemed to sober up by the end of the night. Then again, she'd had a few more drinks at the bar. Surely she'd have enough sense to call a cab.

Derek didn't say anything for a while, breathing heavily into the phone.

"Derek? You there?"

"Just find her, Mark. And call me."

Mark stared at the door of the restroom hesitantly. "I'm going into the ladies' restroom. Wish me luck."

"See ya, man."

Mark closed his phone, slipping it into his pocket. He'd never gone into a women's bathroom without being specifically invited. He cautiously opened the door. There were two women standing in front of the mirror, applying makeup. They stared at him.

He didn't dare step in. "Uh. Did a tall redhead come in here or leave?"

They shook their heads.

_Damn. I was counting on that._ For the first time, the worry started to creep up his throat. He left, and decided to search the rest of the hallway. It was a large place, he reasoned, she could have gotten lost. There were a bunch of little conference rooms adjacent to the grand hall. He took a quick peek in each of them and trusted that she wouldn't have left without him.

Farther into the hallway, the rooms started to change from business-orientated to a domestic design. There was an office and a kitchen, and even a living room. _Someone must live here. Probably the owner. But no one's here. _The hall twisted around and Mark began to lose track of direction. There was one closed door, near the end of the hallway. A tingle resonated in his spine, causing the hair on his arms to stand straight up.

_It's probably a bedroom. _He started to move on, but then stopped. _What if she's in there though? It could be another bathroom._

He knew he shouldn't go in, on the account of breaking the law. Was it trespassing? He supposed he could always fake drunkenness and stumble out of there if he walked in on something. He wasn't trying to steal anything; his reasoning was legitimate.

His fingers wrapped around the doorknob and opened it in one swift motion.

It was dark, and as his eyes adjusted, he could see it was a library of sorts. The light from the hallway flooded in and revealed bookshelves lining the walls. Something slammed against wood and Mark turned on the lights.

He recognized her shoes first. Black, open-toed, spiky heel.

Two men kneeled near her thighs. Their eyes widened in surprise. When they moved, he could see that one of them had his hands up the skirt of Addison's dress.

It made him physically sick, and then, livid. He knew he'd seen them before, but he couldn't recollect where. His first instinct was to charge at them, dig his fingernails into their skin, and rip. Their faces flurred together as tears burned in his ees.

He had to blink and shift his eyes away. "Get off of her."

It seemed less intimidating with the lights on. He slowly looked back to Addison, who wasn't moving. _God, she can't be dead. She has to be fine. _The men had stopped touching her, but they didn't get up either.

If they stayed any longer, he was going to strangle them, no matter what kind of strength they had against him. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his body, and thought that maybe he could take them, if need be. "Leave and I won't call the cops." He prayed that they wouldn't challenge him. He was scared, but he'd rather die than let Addison stay locked up with them.

They stood up, and he ignored the bulges in their jeans, concentrating on saving Addison.

The one with the beard explained, "She came with us willingly. We were just trying to find her a place to sleep."

He shook his head, not able to comprehend their excuses. He needed to go to her.

He rushed to her side when he couldn't hear their footsteps out in the hall anymore. "Addison. Wake up." It brought him great relief to see her stomach stretch against her dress every so often. _She's breathing._ "Addison." He pulled her dress over her thighs for the sake of decency and rubbed her arm.

She made a noise and rolled over on her side.

He swallowed thickly when he saw that her dress had been untied at the top. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling and he clenched his fists until the anger subsided. A few tears couldn't be held in and dripped onto her dress. Without looking, he gently flipped her over on her back. "Let's get up."

"Mark?" She didn't open her eyes or move.

"Yeah, it's me." He grabbed her hands and attempted to pull her dead weight up.

She groaned again, "I'm sleeping."

"I know," He got her to a sitting position. "We've got to get out of here."

"Hmmm. Mark."

She wouldn't stand. "I'm going to carry you," he let her know, though she wasn't entirely conscious. He hastily tied her dress back together and hoisted her up. She wasn't too heavy, just long and unwieldy.

She seemed so peaceful, asleep in his arms. He kissed her forehead, something new for them. She tasted like peaches and something wonderful, but he felt horrible that she wasn't awake to share it with him. He decided it didn't count as their first kiss, and managed to ignore the softness of her skin. She'd already been taken advantage enough that night.

He took the back entrance, hoping no one would see them and suspect something. When she found out in the morning, she'd be embarrassed and miserable anyway, without the whole hospital knowing.

On the street, he had her slouch up against him while he could hailed a cab. She kept slipping away so he was glad when a cab came quickly. After making sure she was situated and buckled in, he called Derek.

"I found her," he announced first, wanting to start the conversation as optimistically as possible.

"Thanks. Could you send her home in a cab?"

_That's less than enthusiastic. _"You should come home." He used the most morose tone possible. Derek wouldn't leave the hospital unless it was serious, but he would still be furious with Mark for letting this happen, regardless of how much he actually cared about Addison.

"Why? Is she hurt?" He heard Derek shuffling some papers in the background.

Mark looked at Addison and scanned over her skin quickly. No bruises or scratches. "She seems to be okay." He didn't really feel comfortable checking under her dress. "Just come home so you can put her to bed. She needs you."

"Can't you do it?"

Mark glanced at her again. "No." It was Derek's responsibility anyway; he took the vows and everything. And Mark knew if he found any evidence that they'd hurt her, he was going to hit something. Probably a wall or a window or something expensive.

Derek sighed, "Can you bring her to the hospital?"

"She's asleep." He ran his fingers through her hair, twisting the fiery strands. "I don't think she's going to wake up anytime soon."

"Is she drunk?" Derek asked, bitterly.

"Maybe." But Mark didn't really believe that. She hadn't drank that much.

"I just don't want to catch a cab home and have to come back in a few hours."

She was nothing more than an inconvenience for him, and Mark couldn't stand it. "She needs you! Something happened, and..."

"Between the two of you?" Now Derek was interested.

Mark didn't even bother answering the question. He checked to make sure Addison wasn't listening and whispered, "I found her in a room with two guys and she was asleep and it wasn't good, Derek. I got her out of there but I don't know what to do."

Derek paused and set the phone down. A few muffled sounds that Mark couldn't distinguish came from the receiver, and then a scratchy noise and Derek's voice, "I'll be home."

After the familiar click of a hangup, Mark put his phone away. He pulled Addison into his arms and held her for the rest of the ride.

She was beginning to wake up when they got to the brownstone. He had to help her out after paying the driver. By the time he dragged her to the bed, he was out of breath. He placed her on top of the covers, but didn't take her dress off. They'd never slept in Derek's bed before, always his, but he didn't care.

The bed bounced a little as he climbed to lay next to her.

She cracked her eyes open for the first time. "Mark?" He rested his arm on top of her stomach to secure her. "Did you bring me home?"

"Yeah."

"That's nice of you." She touched him to make sure he was really there and smiled.

_She doesn't remember anything._ "Are you tired?"

"Very much," she closed her eyes, and rested her head on his shoulder, allowing him to slide a hand under her and around her back.

He hadn't held her in a week, which was too long. Everything about him craved more of her to make up for the lost time and he couldn't stop himself from watching her sleep. His hand grazed her chest, his fingers trailing down her cleavage.

_Bad move_. "Oh. Fuck." After everything they'd been through tonight, he was still hot for her. This officially convinced him that he had a disease. Why else would he be this attracted to his best friend's wife? "Addison," he tapped her, keeping his hands as far away from her as possible. "Wake up and talk to me."

"No," she refused. "Keep doing that. Hmm...it tickles."

_Yeah, that's what I need- encouragement_. "I can't. I need you to talk to me." Or else he was going to have to touch her again, and he didn't want Derek to come home to see his face nestled in Addison's boobs.

She sighed dreamily, "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know." He had something he wanted to ask her. _That's_ _too forward_. _Still, she's as honest and relaxed as she gonna get._ He paused, "What if we were married? What would that be like?"

"Well," she folded her hands on her stomach. "Derek would be here and you would be at the hospital."

He wasn't expecting that at all. "How'd you come to that conclusion?"

She watched him through slitted eyes. "You and Derek are a lot alike."

"But I would never be able to leave your side," he countered.

She ignored the sentiment in his words, turning her head and focusing on a picture of her and Derek together. "You would," she paused, "You'd get sick and tired of me, just like Derek."

"Derek isn't sick and tired of you." It seemed like the right thing to say, even though he wasn't really sure what Derek was doing or feeling anymore. "And I'd never get tired of you."

"Thanks." She closed her eyes. "Tell me what you think it would be like."

He was glad to share his answer with her; he'd spent a long time thinking about it. "We'd watch movies every Friday, like we do now, but you wouldn't have to leave in the morning. We could stay in bed all day. And dance without feeling guilty. Just for fun. Maybe we'd even retire early, but not really because neither of us could stand being away from a scalpel for too long. We'd go on lots of vacations in sunny, warm places and have four kids. I know you don't want that many, but, let's face it, our genes are too extraordinary to go to waste. We'd have a dog too, and a big house," and lots of sex, he added mentally. "I wouldn't work all the time, like Derek." He stopped, "Are you listening to me?"

She whimpered a little.

He kissed her forehead again and she snuggled into him, rubbing her face against his cheek. She didn't seem to mind so he kissed her eyelids and her nose.

He inched down the bed a little and suspended himself over her. It took a great deal of physical effort not to collapse on top of her, but the strong muscles in his forearms held him up. He lowered himself, and stretched his neck out. Their lips barely touched before he heard the front door open.

"Ugh," He groaned, rolled off of her, and stood without jarring her. Derek's footsteps echoed in the kitchen followed by a crinkling of a bag.

Mark checked around the room to make sure there was no evidence of what he'd done. He tried to find a comfortable position leaning against the dresser so it'd look like he'd been there for the past half hour.

Derek nearly ran up the stairs. Mark caught a whiff of coffee before he saw him, completely frazzled with his shoes and coat still on. He carried a orange prescription bottle and a Styrofoam cup.

Derek rushed to the foot of the bed to observe Addison. "Is she all right? Is she asleep?"

"Yes." Mark didn't want to say anything in fear that Derek would realize he'd been kissing his wife a few seconds ago.

"Here." Derek handed Mark the cup of coffee. "Thanks for staying with her."

Mark was surprised that Derek was even talking to him. He'd lost Addison and let something bad happen to her. "No problem."

"Yeah." Derek stared at Addison nervously. "I brought her some medicine." He held it up, "We were out and she'll probably have a headache."

"Good idea." Mark took the bag from his hand and set it on the dresser.

Derek moved to the side of the bed and fell to his knees. He stroked her hair where Mark had just touched her. "So what happened?"

"I told you. I took my eyes off of her for a second and then she was gone. I found her in a room with two men and..." his voice trailed off. He couldn't bear to describe it.

Derek watched Addison and then got up to get a drink of water and sat on the edge of the bed by Addison's feet. "Are you sure you didn't misunderstand? Maybe they were trying to help her."

"I saw them, Derek." Mark walked to the window, peering outside. "They were trying to help themselves." He coughed in disgust. If he thought about it any longer, he was going to throw up.

Derek shrugged in disbelief. "Well, maybe she'd passed out and they were just carrying her and you saw-"

"I know what I saw." Mark resisted pounding on the dresser with his fist. "They were getting off. One of them had his hands up her skirt and the other one was watching and touching..." He stopped, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. "I am going to be sick." He bolted to the bathroom and sat in front of the toilet. He listened to the blood pound in his ears and sputtered but nothing came out. Just the feel of the ceramic toilet bowl was enough to cool his face. After a few minutes, he went back into the bedroom.

Derek was now sitting on the bed, cross-legged, looking at her. He leaned back, as if to get a better look. "I just don't understand. She seems okay."

"Yeah." Mark couldn't believe she'd escaped without a scratch on her.

Derek sat up. "Sorry. I don't mean to keep you here. You can go if you want."

"That's okay. I'll stay." There was no way in hell he was leaving. "We all have to leave for the hospital anyway in a couple of hours." That was an excuse that Derek could believe.

He nodded, "Oh, sure. I guess that makes sense."

"Maybe you should put some pajamas on her?" Mark suggested. That dress couldn't have been comfortable for her.

"Yeah, okay."

Derek seemed a little absent-minded, like he didn't know what to do. Mark felt the same way, but he wasn't going to just sit there and watch her. He would at least try to help her. "Do you want me to leave the room or stay and help?" _Stay and help. Stay and help, please._

"You can stay. I'm sure Addie doesn't mind." He paused, "Can you get them? Bottom left drawer."

Mark bent over to reach the drawer and dug through the pajamas to find the most comfortable pair. He noticed that all the sexy lingerie was at the bottom, and was glad that it hadn't been used in a while.

Derek caught him looking. "Come on, Mark. Not that kind."

Mark shoved it back to the bottom and grumbled. He hadn't suggested they use it, only stopping to look for a moment, like any other normal guy would have. He picked out a decent pair of button-up silk pajamas and set them on the bed next to Derek, who had was working on the knot at the top of Addison's dress.

"Do you think we can lift her to sit without waking her?" Derek asked.

"I don't know. We can try." Mark stood at the side of the bed while Derek pulled on her shoulders.

She groggily sat up, her eyes half open. "Derek?" She fell on top of him, her arms around him.

Derek put one of his hands on the back of her hair and pulled out her hair clip. Then, he motioned for Mark to sit behind her.

Mark, surprised at the gesture, scooted over so she sat between his legs and let her lean against him. Addison fell back asleep quickly and Mark tried not to show how much he was enjoying this.

Derek placed his hands at the top of her dress and began to tug it down. Mark hesitated to look, but Derek didn't say anything so he figured it was okay.

Derek pulled the dress down her torso, and then gasped, "Oh my God. Mark, close your eyes."

"What?" Mark looked up at the ceiling, preparing for the worst.

"She's missing her underwear." Derek's fingers shook as he put on the pajama top and buttoned it up.

"I thought it was one of those dresses where you don't need to wear a bra," Mark offered, hopefully.

"No, she had one on," Derek recalled. "I saw her without her dress on. She was trying to be seductive and we didn't have time..."

"She's not dead," Mark reminded him, as he slid his hands protectively around her stomach. "I guarantee that she will try to be seductive again in the future."

"I just feel bad," Derek touched her leg remorsefully.

_Just now or all the other times you've ditched her? _Mark wanted to know. Derek was one for the dramatics, but it wasn't like they were writing her eulogy. "Is she okay and everything?"

"Yeah," Derek sighed in relief. "They didn't hurt her." They both took a moment to comprehend how paradoxical that was. Derek leaned in and kissed her on the lips and Mark had to look away.

"Seriously, Mark?" Derek raised his eyebrows. "I've endured much worse PDA's from you and your girlfriends."

That didn't matter. Derek didn't like any of his dates anyway. "I'm not that bad," he claimed.

"Yeah, right." Derek laughed. "Addison always mentions something. It really bothers her."

"Really?" Addison was jealous? That was a compliment.

"That's not a compliment," Derek added.

Mark smirked, "I'll try to restrain myself next time." He really would too, being sure to focus all of his attention on Addison instead. Jealousy could always be used to his advantage.

"Okay." Derek stopped paying attention. Addison had mesmerized him again, in her sleep. He reached up and touched her cheek.

Mark wondered if he behaved like this all the time. Sure, Derek felt guilty tonight, but in the next couple weeks? He'd get busy and forget.

Derek moved to the end of the bed and set her feet on his lap. He took off her shoes carefully while Mark snuck in a few caressing touches on her hand. After placing her shoes on the floor, Derek took a deep breath, and pushed her feet through the silk bottoms. Mark watched as he slid the fabric up her legs, and lifted her up when the elastic reached her thighs.

Derek stopped. "Don't." He leaned forward and rested his weight on his palms like he was out of breath.

Mark froze, setting her back down tenderly.

"She doesn't have underwear on," he panted. "And I _know_ she would never leave without that." He sat up on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

"Well, what did you think?" Mark asked quietly. Sure, it was painful, but he didn't expect anything less.

"I just-" He rocked forward and looked at her. "-Addie-" Derek sniffled, "-can't believe."

He needed to get a grip and control himself. "Derek!" Mark whispered fiercely. "Calm down!"

"Sorry. I'm just so tired." Derek shook his head, ruffling his curls and revealing bloodshot eyes.

Sure, Mark pitied Derek, but he was tired too. He wasn't crying all over Addison. "Just make sure she's all right."

"I already did," Derek growled.

_Why Derek is getting so angry? We're wasting time._ "Just look down there." Derek was her husband; it was his responsibility.

"I don't want to." Derek looked at her skirt apprehensively.

"I'm scared too," Mark confessed. _But I'd do it for Addison._ "Fine," he told Derek. "Look away. I'll do it." He grabbed a hold of Addison's dress and hiked it up.

"No!" Derek grabbed his hand and pulled it away. "You look away." He whispered something to Addison that Mark couldn't hear.

Derek didn't speak again for a few minutes. After a while, Mark asked him awkwardly, "Uhh. Can I look now?"

Derek made a noise and it was incredibly difficult for Mark not to glance. "Almost. Can you lift her up again?"

"Did they do any permanent damage?" _It'll be a good motive for ripping their eyes out._

"No. There's nothing. Whatever they did, they left no marks," Derek admitted. "Will you please lift her up now?"

Mark placed his hands hands on her hips and felt bare skin. Derek scolded him, "Not there, Mark."

"I can't see, _Derek_." He moved his hand higher until he felt the silk top.

"Don't feel her up."

"I'm not."

"Excuse me if I'm extra protective," Derek spat as he inched up her pants and tied them loosely. "Now let me hold her."

Mark felt it was okay to look again. "You didn't take off the dress." He lifted it over her head by himself while Derek watched.

Addison began to stir when Derek slid his hand under her armpits and pulled her into his lap. "Shhhh, Addie."

Mark held onto one of her hands out of Derek's sight. His body felt cold and empty without her against him.

Addison started to cry before she woke up. "Derek," she gasped. "What's wrong?"

_That's a little backwards, _Mark thought. Her hand slipped out of his.

"What?" Derek asked, suddenly the savior when Addison was awake.

"What's wrong with me?" She clarified through a sob.

_Nothing. You're perfect_. Mark tapped her on the leg because he was feeling a little invisible.

"Mark." She instinctively reached for him. "What happened?"

Mark opened his mouth to apologize, but Derek took control of the conversation by grabbing her chin and turned it towards him. "Do you remember anything?"

Addison shook her head. Her tears spilled over onto Derek's fingers.

"We got in a fight," Derek explained. "And I left you along with Mark. I'm sorry."

She winced and glanced at Mark. He nodded.

Derek continued, "And you started to drink and fell asleep at the bar. Mark brought you home."

_What?_ Mark snapped his head up and Derek gave him a knowing look.

"I remember that," Addison stared into space, thinking.

"Uhh..." Derek really wasn't going to tell her? He was going to leave her in the dark? _She thinks there's something wrong with her!_ He'd seen cases like these. The subconscious memory would torture her forever, regardless of how safe and secure she might be. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"No." Derek answered quickly.

"What, Mark?" Addison was counting on him to tell the truth.

He paused and realized that, in present company, he had to respect Derek's wishes, although he would certainly not let this go. "We danced together. Even though Derek told you not to."

"Oh." The tears welled back up in her eyes as she looked at Derek. "I'm so, so sorry. Derek. I'm sure I didn't mean to." She screamed silently into his shirt.

"You're forgetting, _Mark_, I told you to tell Addison that it was okay."

He kissed her, but Addison continued to blubber against his mouth, "I'm s-sorry. I'll never do it again. I promise. I'll do whatever you want. Just don't leave."

So much for Mark's fantasy. He had to get out of there before Derek started to make out with her right in front of him. "Derek? Can I talk to you outside for a minute?"

"Yeah." Derek set Addison down on the other side of the bed. He handed her the coffee and the medication. "Here. Take this. It'll help with the headache. The coffee's cold, but I think you'll enjoy it anyway." Derek bent over and kissed her again. "I'll be right back."

Mark closed the door behind them and led Derek down the hallway, where he was sure Addison couldn't hear. "What were you thinking?" He whispered, "We have to tell her!"

"No." Derek placed a hand on Mark's shoulder, "It's too painful already. She doesn't need this."

"We have to call the police." Mark gestured towards the bedroom. "She hasn't showered yet. There could be evidence!"

"What evidence?" Derek asked hysterically. "She's not hurt. Those men left nothing on her. She doesn't even remember."

That was a sorry excuse, if Mark ever heard one. "It's still rape!"

"No, it's not!" Derek covered his ears and counted to ten out loud.

Mark waited, and then took Derek's hands away from his ears so he would listen properly.

Derek ripped his hands away. "There's no case, except for your testimony, which isn't very solid."

"What do you mean?" His testimony was solid enough. Mark wasn't going to let these guys get away.

"Can you tell me what they looked like?" Derek challenged.

"One of them had a beard!" Mark scratched his head, trying to remember. "Fine. I didn't really get a good look."

"See?" Derek pointed out.

Mark crossed his arms. "You realize it's going to haunt her for the rest of her life. She's unhappy and she thinks it's her fault."

"It's better than the truth." Derek hissed, his eyes popping out in anger. "Now, will you let this go?"

Mark gave in, sighing. "I guess I have to."

"You will never mention this again."

Mark frowned. _How can Derek just forget about it? Maybe he has to. _"I'll try, Derek. That's all I'm promising."

"Okay." Derek checked his watch. "We only have two hours left."

Mark couldn't believe that they had to go to work tomorrow. Maybe he would just lock himself in his office and stare at paperwork the entire day. "We'd better get to sleep."

"I'm going to bed with my wife," Derek said, like it was an oasis that he didn't really believe in.

Mark started down the stairs to the couch, which was much more comfortable than any of the guest beds.

"Hey." Derek stopped him. "You can stay in our room tonight, if you want. I think Addison wants both of us."

Mark smiled. He saw a tiny bit of fear in Derek's eyes and knew he was needed. "Okay." He pretended that it was a chore for him, but it really was a well-developed habit, sleeping next to Addison.

"But keep your hands to yourself."

* * *

A/N: Okay, hope you liked the chapter!!

It started out as like 2000 words, but then I went back and described everything in detail and it added about 4000 words. Haha.

It was rather Mark/Derek when I said that it would be Mark/Addison. Sorry. Next chapter is DEFINITELY Mark/Addison. It involves popsicles, which is so cliche, but I love Maddison with popsicles.

This is the last chapter with this storyline. I probably won't bring it back, either. So, enjoy it now!

Thanks for reading!


	5. Fun and Fruity: It's the Good Stuff

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1**

**Warning: This section rated M…to be safe. Addison gets to third base.**

**Oh, and this is slightly epic. **

**How It Started**

Actually, it all started with cherry popsicles.

It was a spring Tuesday afternoon and, and Mark and Addison had decided to go running to the park.

She thought she'd be okay, as she ran pretty consistently throughout her life, even training for a couple half-marathons. But she struggled to keep up with him.

He set the bar high, and though her legs were just as long as his, her long lean features couldn't carry her as fast. She was huffing and puffing by the time they got there.

Her back slammed against a cool metal pole in a secluded section of the park, away from the busy playground and basketball courts. He braced his knees and offered her his water bottle.

She took it, sucking down the semi-warm water, her saving grace. "Why is it so fucking hot in April?!" she groaned.

"Watch your mouth." He glared mockingly and laughed. "It's not that hot, it's humid." He placed his hand on the slick skin of her arm.

She shrugged it off. "No more body heat than necessary, please."

"Sorry." He smiled, "So you don't want to do another lap right now?"

"Very funny." Her legs bent until she fell over and her knees crunched into the pavement. She rolled over and crawled to the grass.

Mark spotted an ice cream stand across the street. "I'll be right back."

"Okay." She hugged her legs to her chest and tried not to throw up.

When he came back, two popsicles in hand, she was sitting on a swing, lazily twirling around. "Oh!" Her eyes lit up as she took the popsicle from him. "Yum. Thanks." The cold ice slid down her throat and she licked the juice off. _Why is he so nice to me?._

Mark watched her, forgetting about his own popsicle, dripping down his fingers. When he remembered to breathe, he slurped off a chunk of it and sat down in the other swing.

She began to move her swing sideways and he followed her lead, bumping their hips together. He held out his popsicle to her lips. "Try it."

_Why? _"They're the same flavor!" she pointed out. He was so cute, smiling as if he would never want to be anywhere else. He looked like he was wearing lipstick, from all the contact with the red popsicle. She was sure her lips were the same way. Embarrassed, she swiped at them and twisted her body awkwardly. One of her legs tangled with his. His rough, muscled skin felt wonderful against hers.

"Hey!" He slid his knee between her thighs and she squeezed her legs together so he wouldn't move. With his free hand, he grabbed one of the ropes of her swing and insisted, "Try it."

She darted her tongue out to lick it. "It's the same."

"Let me try yours," he implored, opening his mouth.

"Don't bite it." She wanted it to last longer, gently placing it in his mouth and pulling it out slowly. He curved his lips tightly around it, and she felt his tongue pressing against it. Before she knew it, her pelvis rocked forward against his knee. _God, this is humiliating. _She was hot anyway, and the area between her legs must have been burning him. He resisted a smirk, moving his knee a little, egging her on. She whimpered. _It's not fair, but- oh- keep doing it just like that. _She wanted to move against him until she felt _some _kind of release. Biting her lip, she painfully pulled her legs apart, letting his thigh move freely.

He almost complained, and then grinned, "If we were in third grade, I'd say we just french-kissed."

"What?" She couldn't think clearly yet.

"We swapped saliva with our popsicles," he explained as he playfully spun around in circles.

"Very clever," she remarked. Suddenly, she missed his leg between hers, and attempted to capture it again. "I never french-kissed anyone in third grade though."

Mark shrugged, "What else is there to do?" She pushed him away, horrified. "I'm kidding." He caught her leg with his knees, hiking up his shorts a little.

"No, Mark." She scolded him like he was a small child, and kicked his leg. All the friction between her thighs was arousing enough; she wouldn't be able to stand feeling _him_. "You're sweaty."

"You are too." He pulled on her swing again, bringing her nearer, and throwing her legs over his side. "I like you sweaty."

"I don't." _I feel disgusting_. She hit him on the shoulder, but forgot that her popsicle was in her hand, thus leaving a cherry red slash across his face. It almost seemed dangerous for a second, streaking his cheek like blood.

He reacted quickly, though she was already squirming out of her swing. She tripped on something and he caught her, pinning her against a nearby tree, and marking her on the cheek.

She gasped when he licked it off. _What is he doing?_ "Mark."

"Mmmm..." He repeated the process with her nose. "This is pretty delicious. Much better than just licking it off the stick."

She shivered and struggled against the hand holding both of her wrists against the tree above her head. "Let me go."

"No. You'll run away." He slid the popsicle over her jaw line, following it with his tongue.

"I won't," she implored innocently. She couldn't run away. Her entire body felt numb and much too relaxed, and her arms became tired from being held above her head. "The bark is scratching my wrists."

He dropped her hands immediately and waited, curious when she actually didn't run away from him. He dragged the popsicle along her neck and she tilted her head in the opposite direction. He licked from her shoulder to her collar bone and then handed her the popsicle.

She took it, holding it in the air to keep it from getting dirty, while absentmindedly sucking on her own.

His tongue lapped the trail of sugary liquid on her neck and then he wrapped his arms all the way around her back. His lips covered a particularly tasty patch of skin, applying a light suction and letting his tongue run over it every once in a while.

"Don't give me a hickey," she warned.

In response, he sucked as hard as he could.

"Seriously, Mark. Quit it." She shoved him away, rubbing the tender spot on her neck. She hadn't experienced that in years, and she certainly didn't want to any time soon. Going to work with evidence that she might actually be getting laid would not be professional at all. Misleading, too. "Derek's going to notice." _Along with everyone else in the hospital_.

"So what?" Mark joined his hand with hers on her neck. "He won't care."

"Yes, he will!" And then he would ask how she got it and she would have to lie and Addison was horrible at lying.

"If Derek asks about this teeny-tiny mark on you, I will give you a thousand dollars," he said, cockily.

Now that she thought about it, Addison wasn't sure if Derek would notice or not. She hadn't even seen him for a week, and if that continued, it would definitely give her enough time to heal and Mark enough time to win a thousand dollars. Well, she would make sure to see him, fair game or not. The hard part would be getting him to take off her clothes. "What if he doesn't notice? Do I have to give you a thousand dollars?"

"No..." he smiled and leaned against the tree. "I'm sure I'll think of something else you can do for me."

She didn't want to think about the obvious sexual implications, instead opting to hold up the popsicles to his face. "Which one is mine?" she asked with a mischievous grin. It was almost a joke; they appeared exactly the same, one a little larger than the other. She'd been holding them in one hand, so they overlapped, mixing their saliva.

He picked the large one hand and headed back to the swing set.

Impulsively, her hand shot out and the popsicle struck him on the shoulder.

He stopped, waiting for her.

It was all or nothing now, and she was tired of being alone. She came up behind him, rested her cheek against his damp upper back, and her tongue flitted out of her lips onto his skin. He tasted salty at first, and then she made contact with the sweet cherry juice. Forgetting inhibition, she moved to grip his torso, and close her lips over his smooth opened her mouth and nuzzled him. Her fingers stuck to his bicep, making it difficult for them to move, though it didn't matter anymore- they were effectively covered in each other's sweat, saliva, and leftover popsicle juice.

With the last of her popsicle, Addison drew circles on Mark's back, lining the hem of his t-shirt. She gave a fleeting thought to the stain it might leave as she stood on the balls of her feet, and with the tip of her tongue, licked it off.

He turned around, breathing rapidly, and lead her to a picnic table. He sat down in one fluid motion, pulling her into his lap, and smudging her lips with the popsicle.

She pulled her lip between her teeth the first time, cleaning herself, but he stubbornly held the popsicle against her mouth until she let him do it, softly brushing his tongue over her lips.

After a few times of this, he dropped the popsicle and slipped his tongue in her mouth for a split-second. "Come here." He opened his mouth and covered her lips. His tongue darted out, touching hers this time and licking her lips again.

His lips were rough and kind of chapped, but she liked it. She curled up on his lap and rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at him. Their lips touched once more, and then she said, "That's enough."

"What?" His hand snuck up her shorts, tickling her thigh.

If only he would touch her where his knee had pressed against her earlier. _He's good at this, I have to remember. He does this to every woman. I am not special. _"Oh," she moaned.

"Where?" He moved higher, consciously teasing her. Her hand fell over his through the fabric of her shorts. She attempted to push him away, but found herself unable. She was sensitive and horny and his fingers..._so close_. "Stop." He had to, or else they wouldn't be able to stop. If she was doubting her self-control, he wasn't even going to try to resist the sexual tension. "That's enough for today."

"Why?" He removed his fingers slowly.

"I can't cheat," she knew, though it was only a flicker in the back of her mind.

He rubbed his lips and his voice shook, "But you already cheated. We already kissed. It's done." He watched her with hopeful eyes.

_How can he be so cutthroat like that? _She thought he would at least hesitate to interpret what they've done. Did it technically constitute cheating if it was only a kiss? "Don't you care about Derek at all?"

"I can't lie to him and I'm not going to live in denial." he said, straightforward and honest. "Derek will understand."

"No." She snapped out of the dreamland of popsicles and kisses; reality hit her like running into a brick wall. "Please don't tell Derek. I won't do it again."

"Addison." He cupped her jaw with one hand and circled her wrist with the other. "If you promise never to say that again, I won't ever tell Derek."

"Okay," she took a deep breath. _It's okay. Derek won't know. _She wanted to forget about it, except the kiss kept flashing back into her mind.

"Don't feel guilty." He paused, "But I'm taking a huge risk." He laced his fingers on her hip. "I don't know if you're going to leave me, or him. I don't know what this is."

"I won't leave you," she assured. _But I can't leave him either. _"I need you. I just- I'd be so lost and lonely. And I like you."

"I don't know that."

She wanted him to say that he'd still love her no matter what. No matter if she couldn't leave her husband or if she couldn't ever reciprocate her feelings. It was her most selfish thought yet, especially since she wasn't the most trustable woman in the world. She knew it was reasonable that he was worried. She hoped they weren't falling for each other, but, at the same time, she wanted to love him without any other complex feelings. "Why don't we just play it casual? Go with the flow?"

"So, not worry that I'm screwing my best friend over?"

It did sound ridiculous. _Maybe I'm asking too much._

He smiled, "Hey. No one suppresses feelings like I do."

"Really?"

"That's what my shrink says."

She kissed him again, and shifted in his lap. He pressed his forehead against hers. "Let's go back to my place."

"Nothing can happen." She knew he was expecting to get laid, and she just couldn't give that to him.

"Okay, Addison." He ran his fingers through his hair as she stood up, and hesitantly offered her hand to him.

He took it happily, and kissed her cheek. "Thanks."

It was so easy to please him, perhaps too easy. They walked back to his apartment in silence, in reflection of the decisions they made.

* * *

She stepped into his apartment, his breath on her neck, "You know, Mark-"

He kissed her hard against the wall before kicking the door shut. Their tongues slid together and she couldn't keep her hands off of him. They had to be touching everywhere. _He's so damn hot. I hate it, but I haven't felt like this in such along time. Is that an excuse? _"God, Mark." He pressed his mouth down her neck and over her chest, and his hands trailed up her ribs, just below her breasts.

"No. Stop," she shook her head helplessly.

"Come...bedroom." His hands curved around to her backside and tugged her towards him.

"I told you. Nothing can happen." Her words posed a weak argument against her restless hips. She'd never thought Mark would take it this far. She couldn't believe that his desire for her outweighed his epic friendship with Derek. Mark was always a bit of a nymphophilic, but not to this extent. She wasn't worth it.

He lead her to the bedroom, just staring at her, dipped his hand under the elastic of her shorts and played with her panties.

"No," she said softly.

"I need to touch you," he murmured as he lightly caressed her.

She could do nothing but cling to him, frozen. It was nerve-wrecking, the way he wanted her. Her stomach flopped over and over again. "Please, Mark?"

"Shhh..." He laid her on the bed, and slipped off her shoes. "Let's get these sweaty clothes off of you." He kneeled between her legs, lifting her tank-top up and biting her abdomen lightly.

It tickled her and she accidentally laughed. He took it as a cue to pull the tank-top over her head, leaving her in only a bra.

She squeaked and hid under the covers.

He touched her lump of a body through the comforter. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want to have sex with you," she told him, slightly muffled through the covers.

"Why not?" He didn't sound mad, just surprised.

She figured that it probably had never happened before. He was Mark Sloan. Everyone wanted to have sex with him. _And everyone does have sex with him. Who am I to reject Mark anyway? He's a sex god. _"I'm embarrassed," she confessed, pulling down the blanket to reveal only her face, "and it's cheating."

"Do you want me to get naked first?" She watched him peel off his shirt, and then his shorts and underwear.

She closed her eyes, not ready to see him in the flesh, though she'd been imagining it for years.

"Addison, open your eyes."

She knew he was standing right in front of her, completely exposed and vulnerable. Then again, he had a lot more experience and confidence than she did at the moment. He was probably posing for her, just to make her laugh, but she couldn't look. It would change everything. "I can't." She covered her eyes to reinforce the point.

"Then scoot over," he commanded.

She did, struggling without her hands to shift her body, and he climbed in next to her. She felt his bare leg against hers, warm and strong. "You can look now."

She cracked her eyes open and calmed to see that he was fully under the covers.

"Feel better?" He reached under the sheets and grabbed her hand, kissing it and bringing it to his chest. She rolled the skin of her fingertips over him and he moved her hand lower to his smooth abdomen and stomach. She studied his excited expression and reached further down.

The smallest wisp of thick hair brushed her knuckles and she jumped back. _Jesus. He really wants me to touch him. I can't believe I almost- _"I'm so sorry. I don't mean to be such a tease." _I can't even get him off properly_. She covered her eyes again.

"No." He kissed her shoulder, letting out a breath. "That was good. I mean, you don't even need to…" His fingers dove into her shorts again, this time sliding them off. Her legs twisted together in mortification.

He sat up to take them all the way off, letting the sheet fall off of both of them. "Addison. Relax."

"I just-" she rolled over on her side so she didn't have to look at him. "You're sitting in front of me naked, and – not to feed your ego or anything- you're really good at this. I haven't had sex in months, and I think I've lost something. I'm not like you." _I'm not sexual anymore. Maybe I'm going through early menopause. That's depressing._

"What the hell are you talking about? You're the sexiest person I know." He laid back down and traced her back with his fingers. "You turn me on every second that I look at you."

It took her a minute to remember to breathe. No one had ever spoken to her like that, not even Derek. She almost believed him. "You say that to everyone," she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes just in case he really felt that way. She reached back and made sure he was all covered up before turning around to face him. _He probably even has a little speech memorized to get girls into bed. But it didn't seem like this before we knew how we felt about each other. _

He smirked, "Obviously you've never seen yourself eat a popsicle." He pushed her legs open and shoved his thigh between hers. "Geez, it's like watching porn."

She'd been leading him on the whole day and she never realized it. Of course, it was sensual, but cherry popsicles could hardly be considered an aphrodisiac.

He must have noticed her blank stare, because he followed the porn comment by saying, "Seriously, though, I've never felt like this before with anyone else. I know if we could be together, it would be amazing."

It seemed so contrived, but she wanted it to be the truth. She had no reason to doubt him; he was, in fact, more honest than her. "You want to have sex with me?"

"Yes," he clarified, as he pulled her in for a deep kiss, pushing her bra out of the way.

He didn't love her and she wasn't any different from all the other whores he dated. _He probably makes everyone feel like this. _Finally she could understand why the nurses called him a 'mantrap'. There wasn't any point anymore to making an effort. So she let him hover on top of her, ignoring everything that she felt, especially the lump in the back of her throat. She rested her hands on his neck, pushing his head down so he couldn't see her indifferent expression.

"Can I take this off?" He snapped her bra string.

"No," she used her most monotonous voice, just wanting to get it over with.

He felt her up anyway. "What about these?" He cupped her between the legs, smiling at her damp underwear.

"Don't touch that." She kneed his hand away.

"Can I touch anything?" he muttered sarcastically.

She didn't bother to answer. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was annoyed with her, instead of being completely consumed by her presence, like he claimed.

He kissed her and reached down to spread her legs, but her knees remained locked together.

She knew she couldn't do it, but she didn't know how to tell him.

"Open up for me." He wedged his hand between her legs and attempted to pry them apart.

"I can't cheat on my husband," she told him once more. _If he doesn't understand this now, he's never going to give up. _

"Fine." In less than a second, he was out of the bed, putting his clothes on.

"I'm sorry," she stood up, finally apathetic to her lack of proper apparel. "I want to, but I can't. I want to spend time with you, doing things with you, but not this. I haven't felt like myself lately and-"

He shut her up by kissing her without agenda. She held onto his t-shirt, forcing her tongue deeper into his mouth when she realized that he was going to leave her. "Take a shower," he whispered against her lips, "I'll be back."

She still felt his phantom lips against her after he left.

* * *

She waited- took a shower like he suggested, made a sandwich, and started a movie, trying to ignore the fact that Mark was out there, screwing another woman and enjoying it. _I have to stop thinking about it. I must be the most desperate woman on the planet._

After a couple of hours, the doorbell ran. _That's weird. Why would he wring the doorbell at his own house? _She shrugged it off, glad he was home and ready to apologize profusely.

She opened then door, and, at the sight of her husband, cursed.

At least he seemed as shocked as she was. "Addie? What are you doing here?"

Her mouth hung open, and she stuttered inaudibly.

"You hang out with Mark?" He peered in at the apartment.

She nodded, scared. _He's going to be mad and he's going to yell at me and I can't believe I got us into this big mess._

Derek invited himself in and she shut the door. He stared at her strangely and the shook his head, snapping out of his trance. "Well, hi." He held his arms open.

_No yelling? He really trusts me. _She took very small steps into his arms.

He hugged her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

_Yeah, it's been a week_. He probably didn't even know. It could have been a day, a month. His life would be the same without her.

He leaned back to look at her. "You smell like Mark. Did you take a shower?" He patted her slightly damp hair.

"Y-yes," she managed to sputter out. "I went for a run and couldn't make it back home so Mark let me crash here."

"Oh." He twisted around, confused. "And where is he?"

"On a date," she replied as nonchalantly as possible, although she had to admit that the thought of Mark with another woman made her angry. But she couldn't do anything about that.

"Of course," Derek laughed. "And he left you here all alone?"

"Yeah," she smiled sardonically. "Apparently, she was really hot."

"Hotter than you? No way!" He snuck his arm around her.

"I know," she said much less enthusiastically. She walked back into the living room, and curled up on the couch.

He followed her. "Do you live here?" he asked, gesturing to the room, partly joking, partly anxious.

_Yes_. "No. It was just for today.

"Well, I guess I wouldn't know. I haven't slept at the brownstone in a week." He sat down next to her and played with the corner of the blanket.

"I know." Because she stayed there until nine o'clock every night before coming back to Mark's.

"Yeah. Sorry. I missed you too," He moved closer to her.

"Right." She kept her eyes trained on the television screen.

"What's that?" He ran his finger along her neck.

It tingled and stung. _Shit._ "Got hit by a tennis ball." _What? I don't even play tennis!_

"Ouch." He placed his lips lightly over it.

_Ew. This is so wrong. _"Yeah. It hurt."

"Who'd you play with?"

"Some girl at the gym."

"What's her-" he stopped himself, much to her relief. "I guess it doesn't really matter." He laughed a little, "I didn't even know you played tennis."

_Well, at least you know something about me. _"Yeah. I just started. It's fun."

"Maybe we could play together sometime?" He awkwardly brought his hand up to rub the base of her neck.

"I don't know." She was giving him the cold shoulder, even though it wasn't his fault. She resented his presence in the place that she shared with Mark.

He paused, "So- tennis and running all in one day? You trying to get fit or something?"

"I guess." _I really need to get better at lying._

He placed a hand on her stomach. "Did you eat anything?"

"What?" _What kind of question is that?_

"What did you have for lunch?"

_Crap_. She ate lunch with Mark. At the café on fifth. But she couldn't remember exactly what she had. "I…um..."

He stood up and paced the room. "Addison!"

She knew she was in trouble when he didn't use her nickname. "What?" _What did I do?_

"I can't do this right now." He pointed at her. "I'm already stressed out and I don't need you developing an eating disorder-"

"I do not have an eating disorder!" She exclaimed from the couch. For a moment, she thought about not correcting him. It would be easier than the truth, and he probably wouldn't care all that much. But she couldn't do that to him. "Seriously, Derek?! It takes most people a few seconds to remember what they had for lunch. And I had a salad, in case you were wondering. And for dinner, I made a sandwich. You can still see the crumbs if you want to! They're in the kitchen."

"Well-" He couldn't come up with anything else, so he gave up. "Okay. I'm watching you, though."

"Okay…" Addison left the room, the conversation reminding her that she had forgotten to clean up her plate.

As the hot soapy water washed over her fingers, she felt Derek behind her. "Sorry."

She glanced back at him. "It's all right." Although the plate was clean, she held her hands under the water for a little too long. When she pulled them out, they were red, the color of red popsicles, and she could feel the blood pulsing through them.

"I feel like I'm missing something, and I'm doing everything I can to find it. You're different and I don't know what it is." He cleared his throat and leaned against the counter next to her. "Of course, I've been staring at your back the whole night, so that might be the problem."

"That's not the problem." She turned off the faucet and pulled the drain plug out. "And it's not an eating disorder either. So stop trying to blame something else."

He crossed his arms. "What are you trying to tell me, Addison? Because apparently you have something to say."

She glared at him for the first time that night, nostrils flaring. "I'm just saying that you need to figure out what _your _problem is." She stomped back into the living room.

He shouted out to her from the kitchen. "My problem is that my wife keeps running away from me!"

She popped her head in the doorway. "Very good. I can fix that." She smiled slyly and leaned against the refrigerator. "What else?"

He groaned and rubbed his forehead. "I really don't want to do this now."

"But I want you to," she said persuasively. The stainless steel against her back cooled more than her temper.

He looked out the window. "I don't know. I suppose I have a problem with you staying here."

"Suppose?" She raised her eyebrow.

"I do. I don't want you to stay here." He dug his palms into the edge of the counter as he stood opposite her.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his stubble._ Scratchy. _"Now tell me how you're going to fix it."

"Let's go home." He looked away, surprising uninterested.

"I'm staying here." She had to wait for Mark to get home from his 'date'.

"Then what's the point?!" he yelled.

"Maybe you should just go back to the hospital." It was the exact opposite of everything she had strived for in the past month, but Derek couldn't be here when Mark got home.

"I'm not going back to the hospital without you." He gripped her hips firmly, holding his ground.

"Why?" Why did he suddenly care? He only wanted her some of the time, only when it was convenient. "Why are you here?" He was ruining everything. If she could prove that he was completely, irrevocably indifferent, maybe her feelings for Mark would be justified and she could get rid of the guilt that'd been residing in her chest for days.

"Because I want to see you," he offered.

"You didn't know I was here."

He paused to think. "I'm sorry about that. Mark's just been pissed lately, and I promised I'd make some more time. But he's not here." He twisted of her flyaway hairs with his fingers and leaned in closer, as if to kiss her. "I'm so glad you are, though."

She sucked in a breath, letting it out over his lips. "Really?" He turned her into a bashful med student again, like when they'd met. She loved him, always would.

"Mmm-hmm," He knew he had her, pinning her against the refrigerator.

She couldn't do anything except stare at him. It was a spell she'd thought herself immune to, but apparently he still had moves that worked for her. And after ten years, that counted for something. She could only hope that he felt the same way about her.

"Want to take this back to the brownstone?" He smiled suggestively.

She thought of Mark, suddenly turned off. "Oh. Not yet, okay?" She pushed Derek back a reasonable distance and straightened up. "I want to make sure Mark gets home."

"He's going to come home with her," Derek pointed out. "And that's going to be weird and gross when he finds us here."

"He won't bring her home. He knows I'm here," she said confidently. Mark wouldn't do that to her. "Wanna finish the movie?" She took his hand and lead him back into the living room.

They sat down on the couch together and Derek put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned against his chest. He smelled like the hospital, but she didn't care. They both weren't really watching the movie- she'd forgotten to pause it before and neither of them had the energy to find the remote and restart it. They needed to think.

So it was about halfway through the movie when Addison found herself unable to believe that she'd almost cheated on Derek. Even Mark's lips on her neck seemed to surreal to be true. Now, being with Derek and having to sit near him and talk to him made her infinitely certain of her decision.

She looked up at Derek and wondered what he was thinking about.

She found out few seconds later when his hand cupped her breast. _Wow. I must look HOT today. _"Whatcha doing?" She winked at him and took his hand.

"Making out with my gorgeous wife." He turned them and pressed her into the couch.

Her eyes widened as he kissed her. _Can't. Can't have sex here. _She shoved his shoulders a little and he lifted himself up to breathe. "Just wait for another hour. Then we'll leave."

"Now. I want you know." His lips pulled at hers again.

_This is a little icky. I just kissed Mark. But it's never happening again,_ she made herself promise as she pushed his thick curly hair back. She loved his hair. "Mark's going to come home soon."

"Oh come on, it's only ten. It'll be at least another hour."

A flash of deja-vu washed over her as he pulled her t-shirt over her head. "But he left at four."

"Addie," he said calmly. "Mark has had sex at our house lots of times. He owes us. And I don't even remember the last time I had sex. But if you don't want to, that's okay too.

She paused to think. It was true what he said about Mark. And if Mark was out having sex with some random girl, she could have sex with her husband.

_But not in Mark's apartment_. _Not in our place. _"I know. I really miss you too. I just thought we could have a bit of foreplay here, and then, by the time we get to the brownstone, we'll be so hot for each other that it'll just be incredible."

"It's always incredible. No matter where we are." He kissed her stomach. "But I'm liking this foreplay idea."

"Yeah?" She slipped her t-shirt on.

"Hey!" He snuck his hands back up her shirt, as if he was afraid not to touch her.

"Sorry. I just don't want to get caught without any clothes on." Mark had seen enough of her already. She tried making it up to him by sliding her hands down his pants.

He groaned and pressed his face into her chest. "I've forgotten how good that feels."

That soothed her self-conscious fears about not being attractive enough for him. She smiled as she continued to pleasure him.

They heard the door open.

"Fuck you, Mark." Derek muttered under his breath.

Addison jumped up, removing her hands. "Derek, get off." _Mark can't see this. Why do I feel like I'm cheating on him?_

He didn't move fast enough. Mark stepped in and caught Derek lying limp against her, feeling her up.

Addison held her hands up, as if she'd had nothing to do with it, but it couldn't take away the painfully hurt look in his eyes.

"Nice, Addison." Mark glanced her up and down with a disapproving stare. He took off for his bedroom.

"Derek!" She shrieked and hit him hard.

"I'm halfway hard and I can't move." He lifted himself up on his arms. "Give me a minute."

She slid out from under him and rushed into the bedroom. "I'm sorry."

"You made my bed." Mark stood, staring at it.

"Yeah. I needed something to do." She pulled her shorts down from where they'd ridden up and crossed her arms.

"So you called Derek?" he snarled.

She moved closer to him and whispered, "You left me because I wouldn't have sex with you."

"I left you because you wouldn't commit to me." His face reddened and his lips curled over his teeth. "Guess I was right."

"I just- I don't know, Mark." She shoved her fingers into her hair and pulled. "When I'm with only you, I want to be with you. And when I'm with Derek, I forget about you and those feelings."

"What about now, with both of us here?" He removed her hands from her hair and smoothed it back.

"I'm torn." That's all she felt. Ripped into two pieces that couldn't function. "Can't you understand how hard this is for me?"

"Maybe," He nodded. "Can't you understand how hard it is for me to picture you two together? And then seeing it…"

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "He's insatiable, like someone else I know." She stared at him pointedly

"But you can't say no to him." He frowned, and took a deep breath. "I'm surprised you didn't get knocked up in college, with your lack of willpower."

"My willpower is just fine," she asserted. "And, before Derek, I didn't get too many offers anyway."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true."

Derek entered, combing his hair with his fingers. "Sorry 'bout that, Mark. What's up? Where's your date?"

"Date?" Mark fumbled momentarily, "Oh- that girl I left in the bathroom of the club?" He smirked. "What are you doing here?" He instinctively moved closer to Addison.

Derek looked between the two of them as he explained, "I came to make sure you weren't still mad about last Friday. I know I haven't been around…" He reached for Addison's hand possessively. "Addison told me that you two have been hanging out lately."

"Yeah, we watch movies together," Mark said coolly, holding his arms tight against his chest.

Derek pressed into Addison's side and she knew that Mark was jealous. But he didn't need to make the situation any worse. They were all so physically close and tense that Addison could feel Mark's chest tighten against her arm.

Derek squeezed her hand extra hard when he spoke, "I didn't realize…"

The room fell silent. Both men watched Addison carefully.

Derek cleared his throat. "Let's watch a movie together, all three of us."

"It's kind of something that just Addison and I do." Mark looked down at the floor.

Addison smacked a hand against her forehead. It was too bold of Mark to say that, though she was secretly glad he did. Derek didn't belong in Mark and Addison movie nights, as much as she wanted to see him.

"So I'm not invited?" Derek asked her, disbelief evident in his voice.

She didn't say anything and instead looked away, refusing to face them.

"I was just kidding, man." He punched Derek on the shoulder. "Of course, you can come."

Derek chuckled lightly, still in shock. "You scared me there for a second."

"Yeah?" Mark glanced at Addison, who was frozen and confused against Derek.

Derek dropped her hand. "Yeah."

"Next weekend, okay?" Mark winked and Addison had to wonder what he was up to. He made a move as if to leave his bedroom, but he held the door open for Derek, letting him pass first. He placed a hand on Addison's hip, whispering, "Any chance I can get you alone before you leave?"

Derek heard the mutterings and turned around. Addison rushed behind him, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. He crinkled his forehead, "Did you say something?"

Addison pointed at Mark. "I was just telling him that we probably wouldn't be able to stay the night." She raised her eyebrows to make sure that Mark understood.

He nodded. "Yep. Just wanted to know if I should make another booty call or not."

Derek laughed, "Mark…some things never change."

Mark shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Well, you know, with the right girl I might settle down."

"Never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth." Derek mocked concern, "Is something wrong?"

"People can change," Mark claimed as he looked directly at Addison, desperately trying to convince her of his feelings.

"But not tonight, right?" Addison hugged her arms close to her body. He would still make the call and sleep with that random girl who wasn't her.

Derek noticed their seemingly coded language. "I'm really going to have to start hanging out more. I'm not getting any of these inside jokes."

Addison pretended to be happy with her husband, snuggling up to him. "I guess we don't even realize it." She looked at Mark, not knowing what kind of game they were playing. She didn't want to hurt him by being with Derek, and he didn't want to hurt her by sleeping with other women. But they still did it to protect themselves.

"Let's go, Addie." Derek headed towards the door. She followed backing slowly away from Mark with apologetic eyes.

Mark opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head. She was nearly out the door when he grabbed her arm, completely jarring her.

"What are you doing? I can't stay!" She yanked her arm away, ready to slap him. _He's getting carried away- obsessive at the thought of screwing his best friend's wife. _

"Don't sleep with him," he pleaded. "You don't have to."

_What? What does that mean? _She should want to sleep with her husband. She wanted to ask him about it, but Derek was already halfway to the elevator.

Mark leaned forward to kiss her goodbye.

She ducked out of the way and ran to Derek.

* * *

A/N: This is soooo long. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'm super sick. So, next time, Addison is going to be super sick because misery loves company.

I drew a lot of parallels in this chapter. I like doing that. Hopefully, there won't be so much Addek in the next chapters. I don't know why but I keep going back to them. Well, if there is any Addek, Derek is going to be a big jerk.

Review please! It helps with the motivation.


	6. Lovesick

**How It Started**

Actually, it all started with the flu.

A couple weeks after the Popsicle incident, Addison woke up with a raw throat and nausea. She clambered onto Derek and whimpered trying to get his attention innocently.

"Addison!" He pushed her away. "You're too hot."

"I don't feel good." She took off her pajamas in order to release some of the heat from her body, leaving her in a bra and panties. "Could you get me some medicine?"

Derek sighed, "What's wrong?"

"It's the flu," she diagnosed.

"Well, what do you need medicine for?" He swung his legs off the bed.

"THE FLU," She groaned as if he was an idiot. She pressed her hand to her head and then to her stomach. She hated feeling like this.

Derek was not happy with her mood. "That's not what I meant. Like stuffy nose...sore throat...stomachache?"

"All of the above," She said.

Derek glanced at the clock before attending to her needs. "Adds, I have to leave in two hours for the hospital. Are you going to make it?"

"I don't know," was her best answer. They'd been trying to spend time together; Addison went with him everywhere. So she desperately wanted to go with him this morning. Mark wasn't speaking to her- she needed Derek's attention. She couldn't lose him anymore to the stress of his job. "I guess I could sleep in an on-call room."

"Actually," Derek thought better of it. "You'd better not go to the hospital with the flu. That's not very responsible. This thing spreads like crazy. Did you not get a flu shot?"

She ignored him, "Could you get me a glass of water or something?" Her eyes watered at the thought of having to spend the whole day sick in bed without anyone taking care of her.

Derek left, and when he came back he had a glass of water and a bag full of medicine. "I think I'm just going to take you to Mark's. He's got the day off."

"Oh, no." Addison sat up. "I feel better." She'd pretend to feel well at the prospect of having to see Mark after she'd left him heart-broken.

Derek felt the skin on her collar. "You're burning up. You have a fever."

"Yeah, I know," she said. Again, he was stating the obvious as if she wasn't a doctor herself. It infuriated her. "It'll break."

"You're sick," Derek said, even more obvious. "And things have been a little weird with Mark lately and I think this'll help."

"No!" She said, shocked. "I will not be a quick-fix band-aid to your relationship. This is not going to work. He's mad at me too."

"He can't be mad at you when you're sick," Derek smiled at the thought of his genius plan.

"You're abandoning me!" _Again_, she thought. This time was more blatant though and she didn't care to step around his feelings. She wasn't a nagging, annoying wife if she was sick. He was the jerk.

"You know I'd love to spend all day with you." He didn't sound sincere. "But I can't get sick, Addy. Mark'll take care of you." He glanced at her. "Could you put on some uglier underwear?"

She gasped and then shook her head. "No way," she refused. "If you're sending me to Mark, you're going to have to deal with the fact that he's going to see me like this." She tried to look her sexiest on the bed.

Derek stared at her for a second. "Okay." She gasped again and he laughed. "I think the flu is enough to keep him off your scorching hot body right now." He touched her and winced and pretended like it hurt and laughed.

"I think," She crawled up to him. "You are underestimating my powers of seduction."

"You don't need to be seducing Mark," he scolded her, "when you have a husband who will have sex with you as soon as you are better."

She crossed her arms and frowned. Their sex life had gotten better since she started spending less time with Mark, but it wasn't nearly where it used to be. Derek wasn't as interested. Sure, he said he loved her body, but she found it hard to believe when he started focusing on the fastest way to get off rather than on her.

"Just to be on the safe side...let's put your pajamas back on!" Derek smiled in an attempt to persuade her.

"No, they're too hot!" Her throat suddenly feeling worse after all the talking, she swallowed a few sips of water as he searched her pajama drawer. He found a silk nightgown that was to her knees and seemed acceptable.

She put in on, resigned to her fate, and Derek drove her to Mark's with her bag of medicine.

* * *

Mark awoke to a steady pounding on his door. He sat up and realized he had a splitting headache. "Coming," he yelled out hoarsely.

It was Derek, holding a bag, and Addison, who was watching the floor. Their eyes met momentarily and he felt the ache of how much he had missed her. After about a week, he was trying to suppress the feeling, but it all came flooding back to him.

Derek brought Addison in. "Hey, sorry we're here so early. But it's kind of an emergency. Addison thinks she's got the flu and I have to go to work and you don't have to work, right? So could she just sleep here for a bit until I get off?" He gave Mark the bag.

Mark's voice came out a little louder than a whisper. "I'm not feeling too well myself."

"Perfect." Derek said, a little too happy at the ailments of his wife and best friend "You probably have the same thing."

"Derek," Addison whispered, "We're being a burden."

"It's not problem," Mark said. He didn't know where that came from...just a gut instinct to have her near and alone with him.

Addison dismissed him with a shake of her head. Clearly she wasn't up to caring about etiquette or awkwardness. She just needed to rest.

"I'll see you soon," Derek tried to kiss Addison but she turned her face, which made Mark happy. "Feel better."

He left and she emitted a sound that was half-groan, half-sigh and buried her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry."

He could do nothing but wrap his arms around her. "I've missed you."

She scrunched tighter into herself. "I can't believe he's done this to me again."

She didn't understand. She couldn't see that nothing mattered anymore because they were alone and together. "Addison." He felt the heat radiate through her nightgown on her lower back. With a fever this high, he was surprised that she wasn't delusional. Or maybe she was. He pressed into her shoulder blades until he felt all the tension release as she melted into him.

"I'm mortified," she admitted.

"I know it's been a while." He ran his fingers through her hair. "But you can't pretend like I wasn't a part of your life...that I don't understand what Derek does to you." He pulled back and she finally saw him- saw his honesty and his heart and everything he'd done for her.

"Oh, Mark," she cried. "I'm sorry. I made myself forget because I thought I was crazy. I thought I was making all this stuff up...that you actually wanted me and for reasons other than sex."

"You're not crazy," he said, a gut reaction to her statement. "There's something between us and we can't play anymore games. I won't go through two whole weeks without you again."

She got quiet as she saw that her fantasy life had actually become quite real. "I need to think for a while, and sleep." He seemed worried so she added, "Not a bad thing." She smiled. "I just have to clear my head."

He conceded, but wished she had promised never to leave him again.

* * *

Addison woke and felt a little better. Of course, she was in Mark's bed, in his arms and feeling very wanted. She snuggled into his strength and enjoyed the safe feeling. The sleep had cleared a bit of fuzz out of her brain and she tried to ponder her decision rationally, which was difficult, because all she wanted to do was listen to her heart.

Mark had been right. They needed to make a decision. She had three options- she could call it quits with Mark and remain married to Derek, pursue the affair and make absolutely sure they wouldn't get caught, or divorce Derek to have a public relationship with Mark. The first and third options seemed to end in heartbreak- she didn't expect her marriage to improve, especially since it hadn't in her hiatus from Mark. Derek would continue being obsessed with his job and she would live for the moments when he looked her way. And the third option- she didn't know if she could trust Mark yet. Who's to say he wouldn't dump her as soon as the danger and excitement of the affair was over?

She couldn't be sure though.

When he awoke, he kissed her- their first kiss since the Popsicle incident. Their mouths were both hot and dry, but she enjoyed it. She missed his kisses so much. She missed the way he moaned when she stroked her tongue into his mouth. She missed the way his tongue could tell her exactly how he felt about her without him saying a word. And she missed his lips- which seemed to have an unquenchable thirst for her own skin.

He held her, breathing heavily. "Wow."

She smiled, just as out of breath as he was. She felt her lips with her finger and noted how sore they were. She didn't notice it when he was kissing her, but in his absence, everything was heightened. "I think we were made to kiss each other."

"I love that you said that." She had never seen him smile like that. Every time she saw him, he was teaching her new things about him. His stigma as a womanizer hadn't exactly disappeared, but it was started to chip away.

"You should know that I like to kiss you..." She trailed off, thinking she'd been completely obvious about what he did to her.

"You never tell me," he said quietly. "You always hesitate, and when I was naked in this bed, you kicked me out. What am I supposed to think?"

She was shocked. He was not being his usual cocky self. She figured the time apart must have shaken him...but she never intended for him to feel unwanted. "I felt guilty."

"Don't you think I feel guilty too? He's my best friend, Addison!" He propped himself up on his arm, putting a little space between them, but not much.

If Mark felt as guilty as she did, he'd be hesitating too. "He's my husband!"

"You know, we're going to have some big problems if you keep thinking that your guilt trumps mine." She did not like it when he used that tone of voice with her- the lecture-y, condescending tone. Like he was trying to make her feel bad.

'Screw you,' she wanted to say. Why shouldn't her guilt trump his? She got angry so she hit him on the shoulder. Not too hard.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She hit him again, hard this time and they both moaned at the abuse of their sore muscles. She got up out of bed and threw her pillow at the chair in his room. It took all of her energy. She took the picture of her and Derek and threw it at the wall too. She was so weak that it just made a mark but didn't crack the glass or break the frame.

"Come back," Mark told her. She did, sitting on the bed. "Why are you angry?"

She cried and whined at the fact that her physical attempt to release her anger hadn't been very successful. "This is not fair! I want to be with you! But I have a husband and I'm so sick of holding back."

"Stop holding back then." He held her arms and then her hands. "I feel guilty too, but it doesn't hinder or impair my feelings for you. It's two completely separate things."

She nodded like she understood. She felt like such a baby, complaining about everything. She supposed part of it was because she was sick, but it was definitely strange seeing Mark being the mature one in the relationship. "So, how do you feel about me?"

He hesitated for other reasons than guilt and then cracked a small smile. "How about some breakfast?"

* * *

It was cereal again. No pancakes this time, not because she was just a friend, but because their stomachs couldn't handle it. It was Mark's turn to talk, he figured, or she'd ask again how he felt about her. "So, you want to be with me?"

"Did I say that?" She was being coy.

"Yep." If there's anything that morning that he heard, he heard her say that. "Be with me how?"

"Be with you..." she thought, "as in, not be without you." She slurped the last bit of her cereal. "Never going to do that again."

"Agreed," he said, rather nonchalantly, but actually feeling excited. "Are you thinking about leaving Derek?"

It surprised him when she said, "It's an option."

"What's the other option?" He feared.

"Not leaving Derek," she said simply.

"And what does that mean?"

"Having an affair," She frowned. "I think that's the last time I'm going to use that word."

Affair? Yeah, it left a bad taste in his mouth too. He was much relieved to find that he had a place in her life no matter what.

"There was a third option," She considered and smiled at him, "But we've deemed that void."

"Good." That's what he liked to hear. "So what are you thinking?"

"Honestly?" She paused for a minute to wipe her nose, perhaps to delay what she was about to say. "I don't trust you enough to leave him."

"Honestly," He responded, "I don't expect you to."

She seemed so touched by his answer; she raised her hand to smooth his cheek and kiss him.

"But you should know..." He continued, "that's what I have in my mind as ideal."

"Okay," She paused, "I'm not using you, by the way. I mean, I'm lonely and sometimes my self-esteem drops to rock bottom, but I do truly appreciate you."

He didn't know how to respond, so he said, "Thank you." He hadn't really considered that. "So, we're exploring our relationship extra-maritally?"

"Correct," she replied.

He really wanted to ask her about sex. They hadn't really done anything except touch and kiss. He wanted it- not just sex- but all of her...which included sex. He tried to stop himself from fantasizing about her, but couldn't. She didn't seem too much in a hurry to progress the relationship physically. It was the first time he'd ever waited for sex- the first time a girl had ever wanted him to wait. It was mystifying and intriguing that his stud power didn't work on her. He tried to bring it up casually, "So..."

"I have to tell you something," she interrupted. "I'm so, so sorry."

He wanted to tell her to stop apologizing, but figured it helped relieve some of her guilt.

"I slept with Derek."

Yeah, he kind of figured after two weeks of no contact. He wondered if she expected him to remain celibate during that time. Still, it hurt to hear her say it and confirm it. He'd imagined that they had no sex, that she was completely sex-starved and horny as he was. "Okay," he just said.

She continued, "I think I feel more guilty about that than anything that I've done with you."

"Then why did you do it?" He blurted out, and regretted because he didn't want to add to her remorse.

She hid her face in her hands again- something she did whenever she was ashamed or crying. "I thought maybe it'd convince me that he wanted me again. That he actually found me desirable. I'm so pathetic."

Damn...he did not mean to make her think that. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"You asked me not to sleep with him!" She peeked out of her hands and he could see she was both ashamed and crying.

"You don't feel wanted when you have sex?" He had just processed everything she'd said, and it hurt inside his chest (well, it added to the pain of the flu) to know Derek wasn't even appreciating her.

"I don't think I can talk about this," she said, less ashamed now, but just distraught. She rubbed her temples and said, "I need an Ibuprofen."

He threw her the bottle from the little pharmacy they'd amassed. "Just so you know, I wouldn't do that to you."

"Do what?"

"Make you feel unwanted. Anything less than exquisite and absolutely beautiful, in fact." This was something he could brag about.

"How long does it take you to have sex?" She asked him randomly. "With any of your girls?"

"My girls?" Even though he had a lot of sex, he still found it funny that she thought he was some sort of a prostitute...or man-whore to be more specific. "Depends on what I'm looking for." He didn't want to answer this question wrong.

"Like a quickie. The fastest."

He felt like this was a dangerous conversation to be having but they'd probably passed the point of danger when they'd first kissed. "Um. Probably like five minutes."

She laughed, which he felt was strange, and not sure if it was a compliment. "And your girls..." She kept calling them that,"do they 'finish' in that fast as well?"

"Yep. No faking allowed too." Mark smirked and sniffled. "It's a Mark Sloan guarantee. You get your money back." He winked. "Why are we talking about this? Don't expect me to be done with you in five minutes. We're not going to leave the bed the whole day."

She giggled and laughed and it was one of those that awkwardly turned into crying. "Okay."

She agreed to have sex. That was a start. But she was crying? "Why are you upset?"

"I'm embarrassed." Her eyes shined and her face red and splotchy.

"Why?" They didn't have to talk about sex, but Mark knew Addison was not a virgin and there was no reason why she should be embarrassed by a little flirtation and...he realized..."Derek?" Suddenly, he supposed sex with Derek had prompted her to start the conversation.

"I shouldn't have brought it up."

"But you did," he pressed on. "I don't want any details, but if you want to talk about it..."

"No. I was just curious what you thought fast was. Glad we cleared that up." She did the laugh-cry thing again.

"Addison," he said. Their topics weren't exactly breakfast appropriate, but neither really noticed. "There's fast...but that's not often...like doing in a public place, so you have to be fast."

"Mark, please. I can't do this to Derek. I just thought it was getting better, because we used not to have sex at all and I'm sure he's trying..."

"If he were trying, I don't think you'd be here," Mark said bluntly. Actually, he figured the more upset she got, the more she'd tell him what was actually going on.

"Mark! You know that's not true. Obviously, I'm not just here for sex or else we'd be doing it already."

"Yeah, and obviously, we aren't," he mocked her, a little bit crueler than he meant.

"I didn't know it was such a problem for you," she tried to keep her tone cool, but he caught a little bit of hurt as her words shook. "I'm not feeling very wanted. I thought that was a part of the Mark Sloan guarantee." She stood up and strutted to the bathroom, slammed the door, and locked it behind her.

Okay, so he'd screwed up a little. It was fixable. He knocked on the door.

"You're an asshole!" She yelled.

Maybe not so fixable. "I'm sorry, Addison. I thought you understood- the Mark Sloan guarantee is no faked orgasms." Would she find him funny yet?

She opened the door. "I guess you and Derek have the same guarantee. You two are so similar."

"What?" Ouch. All day she'd been implying that Derek had left her unsatisfied...and now this.

She quickly explained, "I don't have TIME to fake it! I could fake it in five minutes. Not two! Sometimes, I don't even know what he's doing...if he's there or not...if I'm asleep or awake. And he doesn't CARE!" She took a deep breath. "And I shouldn't be telling you all of this. Because he's your best friend and I'm violating some guy code for you to have to listen to me, but I can't think properly when five minutes of sex feels like a vacation!"

"I can pretend that you're not talking about my best friend." There was probably some sort of amendment to the guy code when sex got that bad. "I can't pretend...or even face the fact that you've been doing this for two weeks...maybe more?"

She shrugged. "Are you really angry that we haven't had sex yet?"

"No." He couldn't believe that's what she was worried about. "I'm mad that I didn't get to you first." It was a stupid thing to be angry about, the unchangeable past, but he was. "I'm angry that Derek married you and now we're here and you're miserable."

"Mark, are you sleeping with anyone else?"

He was catching onto her habit of changing the subject when she didn't want to talk about something. "Not since that last time...the day we ate Popsicles."

"And french-kissed," She laughed.

Thank goodness they were past that now, he thought.

"If I'm sleeping with Derek, you should be able to sleep with whoever you want," She said and then whispered ever so quietly, "I guess."

"Or," Mark thought of a better idea, "We could not sleep with others and just sleep with each other."

She broke the bad news to him, "I'm not ready."

"Do you think you're not ready because you've forgotten what an orgasm is?"

She rolled her eyes and he could tell he was trying her patience. He didn't understand why she wasn't ready. They'd already kissed. The next step was sex. It was a big deal, but he had hoped it'd be the first of many to come.

"Soon," she said, ignoring his question and stroking his cheek. He didn't lean into kiss her so she decided to rest and sit on the couch. He followed her.

"I think Derek might notice if I stop sleeping with him."

Mark wasn't sure, but he didn't want to say the wrong thing. He slid his legs around her to lie on the couch and she followed his lead, facing him.

"He might notice the fact that he doesn't have orgasms anymore," she said matter-of-factly. "Don't you notice when you don't have any sexual outlet? Everything becomes sexy."

"I think he's too distracted to get horny. It's probably faster and more efficient for him to jack off anyway." Mark didn't really notice the way they were analyzing their sex appetites, but Addison did and she found it funny.

"What?" Mark knew he was provoking her, but played innocent. "Do you ever do that...since Derek doesn't deliver? Take matters into your own hands?"

They were so close because the couch was so narrow- she had nowhere to hide. She blushed bright red and told him, "I'm not telling you that!"

"Why not? It's no secret that men do it all the time." He was sure to brush her cheek with the stubble on his chin. "I haven't thought about anyone but you for months."

She flushed even redder. "Mark..." She squirmed and he pressed her into the sofa.

"Of course, it's no substitute for the real thing. You can't give yourself a tenth of the orgasm that someone else can give you. There's so much more...contact of skin on skin...everywhere, kissing, and the added advantage of angles and convenience, and just the enjoyment of having someone else pleasure you. You can't beat it."

Addison clutched her nightgown tightly. She couldn't say anything; she just looked at him. Her body was radiating heat again, and it wasn't from a fever this time. Mark ran his hand down her arm to her hip. "You're so hot," he stared at her body and she stared at his eyes, watching him. He cupped a breast for a few seconds and marveled all the way down at her body through the sheer nightgown.

"I'm not ready," Addison insisted, even though everything else said she was.

"Give into me," he said.

"Look at me," Addison said. Her hand cupped his cheek and keep his eyes locked on hers and then guided his hand between her legs. "Don't look down there," she warned.

He growled, but obeyed. The first time she came, he'd barely been touching her for a minute. It took her a long time to recover but she did so laughing. "I tried not to be so fast," she said, "I guess I have no right to complain."

He actually loved how fast she was, but it made him a sad how little time Derek would have needed to pay attention to her, but still didn't. Mark wouldn't let that happen.

"We're not done yet, though," Mark pointed out. At least he wasn't. She held off for longer on her second and third orgasms, and they were less intense, but he was pleased and he never took his eyes off of her face. He found that he liked watching her. He was rock hard by the time she told him she needed to rest.

A little disappointed, he excused himself to the bathroom.

"Get your ass back over here," She commanded, evidently meaning that she needed a rest from just her orgasms.

Still, he barely let her touch him through his boxers. He was afraid he'd get too excited. He already knew how wet she was, which was making it very hard for him not to plead for real sex in the moment. So he tried to make it one of his quickies, of course he promised her he'd last much longer when she decided she was ready.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, that's right.**

**I updated! Miracles do happen, people!**

**Viva la Maddison! :)**


	7. 13:8 Love Never Fails Part 1

**How It Started**

_If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. _

_1 Corinthians 13:3_

Actually, it all started with church.

"Addison, why do we have to do this?" He adjusted his tie. "It's 8 AM in the morning."

"You look handsome," she encouraged. And she looked elegant in a cream dress wrapped around her body. In an intimate gesture, she reached up to loosen his tie, even though he really didn't need the help. In the mirror, they looked like a perfectly charming couple. If only the guilt weighing on her heart would cease. She was trying to let it go. That's why they were going to church. She let go of him and fastened a cross necklace that she hadn't worn in months around her neck.

"Why are we doing this?" He repeated and rubbed her shoulder.

She sighed and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the spot that he'd just rubbed.

She resisted the urge to pull away. She was trying to be less ambivalent; she didn't want to play with his feelings anymore.

But it was unbearable to have him hold her like that when he was not her husband.

"Who's approval are you trying to win?" He watched her through the mirror. "God's?"

"Yes," she said shortly, breaking free. Maybe God would understand her actions and the pain behind them, since everyone else seemed to be judging her. "We have to leave now and we don't want to get off on the wrong foot."

Mark mumbled something about adultery already being the wrong foot.

"Excuse me?" she snapped.

"Nothing," he replied.

* * *

The church they went to was off of Manhattan, so they wouldn't be seen or recognized, Mark knew. It was similar to the church that Derek's family brought him to during Christmas.

Addison fit in. She seemed to be hanging onto every word. When it came time for communion, the pastor invited the congregation to pray at the cross in front of the sanctuary. Addison went up and knelt and prayed for almost the entire time. She waited until the last minute to take communion. Mark watched her and felt guilty for being the cause of her guilt.

After the service was over, he felt a change in her demeanor. She no longer seemed ashamed of him. She took a hold of his arms and he kissed her forehead.

They were approached by an older couple in the lobby. "Hi," the woman said, "we haven't seen you here before." They introduced themselves as Lisa and David.

Lisa said, "I don't mean to make you feel self-conscious, but I noticed you praying and I thought you might like to be a part of our prayer team?"

It seemed to be the best compliment she'd ever received. "Yes, I would."

"We can add you too, if you'd like," David said, speaking to Mark, "You just get a weekly email about people to pray for."

"Sure." Mark really couldn't say no to it. They exchanged e-mails.

"Thank you. We're so glad you joined us today. How long have you guys been together?"

"A couple of months?" Addison looked at Mark quizzically.

He nodded. Four, he knew.

"I think it's wonderful," Lisa commented, "that you're incorporating your faith into the relationship. It really shows the importance of God in your life."

"Thank you so much." Addison was soaking it in, denying the fact that this was the first time she'd been to church in a while, and that in her 'wonderful' relationship, she was being unfaithful to her husband.

Mark adored the way she clung to him, but questioned her motives.

They kept chatting and Mark and Addison eventually signed up for a Bible study, church volleyball night, and a Habitat for Humanity house building.

They left, Addison beaming and Mark wondering how they were going to have time for their jobs.

"Thank you for doing that," She kissed him briefly at the car.

"Yep," he nodded. After driving a while, he said, "I don't really understand why we're doing this, but as long as it makes you happy..."

"Mark," she mused, "now we have a place where we don't have to hide."

"So you're going to tell them that you're married? And not to me."

"No," Addison stared out the window. "Not that we don't have to hide...more like we can be ourselves and not worry about expectations or anything. They seemed genuinely interested in us, don't you think?"

"Yeah, interested in our ability to build houses." If Mark had eight hours to spend with Addison, he preferred not to be painting or sanding or hammering...nails.

"They were interested in our desire to be good."

"Personally, for me, I don't think good is that black and white." He pulled into his apartment complex.

"I think it'll grow onto you." She gave him a much longer kiss now, and Mark decided that he could be a church person, if he got to kiss Addison more often.

* * *

They delved into their first week of being church-goers and Mark did find that it grew on him. He enjoyed the company of Lisa and David and their friends. He even went out on a limb and attended the men's group that David ran.

David shared his testimony over a pitcher of beers. Mark didn't know they were allowed to drink, but apparently they were. He listened to David and was shocked to hear about his struggle with a pornography addiction. Afterward, Mark was the last to leave and he told David how much he appreciated the openness and honesty expressed.

"I'm glad you were around to hear it," David shook his hand, but before Mark could leave, he asked, "What do you struggle with?"

"Uhh, what?" Mark hadn't really thought about it. Sure, he watched porn, but he didn't really feel a struggle taking place. He couldn't think of any other struggle to have- he wasn't an alcoholic or addicted to drugs. He tried to make something up, "Ummm, before I met Addison, I think I might have been addicted to sex, but it worked for me at the time. And now I drink a little, watch a little porn, but it's all in moderation so I don't feel too awful about it." He smirked, trying to make light of the situation.

"What does Addison think about the porn?" Mark remembered David specifically mentioned how hurt Lisa was by his porn addiction.

"I don't think she minds." Mark couldn't wipe the smile off of his face. It was getting so uncomfortable but it was better to be awkward than actually serious.

"Addison doesn't mind that you're watching other woman while you have sex?"

Mark did not know this guy very well and was angered by the fact that he was prying so much. "We're not having sex! Isn't that a good thing? Aren't we supposed to be waiting for marriage?" Heck, Mark didn't see why porn wasn't encouraged. To expect a guy to wait for marriage was asking a lot but with porn it seemed a little more reasonable.

"So you think you'll marry Addison?"

Mark didn't understand why he cared. Why did this even matter? Addison and him were perfect in every other way. "I don't know. That's a complicated question."

"It's not really. Can you see yourself being with her?"

"Yes and no."

"Which is it?" David took a deep breath. "I found that it was a lot harder to commit to Lisa when I was in the porn addiction and wanting to have sex with all those other women."

"There are no other women." There's another man- for her. "I can't do this. I'm sorry, man. Everything you said was really cool, but I gotta go." He needed to talk to Addison. He left David with a pitying look on his face, and called Addison.

"Adds. I just got back from this church thing at David's house and he's asking why we're not married and it's freaking me out. I don't think we should hang out with these people anymore. There's a reason why we hang out with jerks," like Derek, he thought, "they make us feel good about ourselves. What are you thinking?"

* * *

Addison got his message, and then unfortunately, a page to the hospital. On the cab ride over, she thought about Mark and all he had sacrificed for her. Maybe she could give up church, if he needed to, but it was the only thing keeping her centered at this point.

She wasn't surprised to see Mark watching her during the emergency c-section, but it scared her when Derek entered the gallery. She could see Mark and Derek talking and worried briefly that Mark might confess all, but she really had much more important things to focus on.

After the baby was out and sent up to the NICU, blessedly with all her organs seemed to be functioning, Addison left the OR. She expected Mark and Derek to greet her, but they were no where to be found. She decided to head to the maternity ward to check up on some other patients and ran into Derek in the elevator.

"Hey." He met her with a short kiss. "I caught some of your surgery."

"Thanks for watching." She didn't know what to say to him. It felt like tip-toeing on eggshells.

"You want to go out to dinner tonight?"

His invitation shocked her. "Seriously?"

He shuffled and smiled, "It is our anniversary."

She forgot. She forgot their anniversary. It kept running through her head. "Oh, yeah." She tried to sound like she hadn't forgotten. Should she get him a present? Maybe just a card. But it felt like they weren't really married anymore. Like dinner was going to be protocol. And, oh gosh, he was going to expect to have sex. She didn't want to, and even more than that, she didn't want to hurt Mark like that. Surely even Mark hadn't forgot that it was their anniversary. "I'm pretty tired, but I'll go."

"Okay. We can leave for the brownstone at 5 and get ready and go to dinner at 6:30?"

"Okay." She really needed to go to church right now. She needed to repent for her sins. For someone as sinful as she was, they needed to have church everyday of the week.

"Happy anniversary." He touched her arm and kissed her again and she felt sick.

She called Mark. "Mark,"

"It's your anniversary," he said.

"I just found that out, from my husband."

"You were amazing in your surgery."

"Thanks," she said, though it was nothing out of the ordinary. How were they supposed to handle it? She wished she could talk to someone who'd been through an affair successfully about the standard treatment of lovers on anniversaries, but she supposed there was no such thing as a successful affair. "Do you want to get lunch today?"

"I don't know. I guess. In the cafeteria or out?"

"Your place," She said decisively. She needed to talk to him in absolute privacy. "What did you and Derek talk about during my surgery?"

"Your anniversary," was the first thing on his mind.

"Should I be getting him a present?"

"I don't know, Addison." He sounded irritated.

She couldn't blame him and decided not to ask if Derek was getting her a present.

"We didn't talk about anything really important." He hesitated. "Add, I just want to tell him everything for some reason. I think it's all this church stuff...we have to stop going. This isn't how I though it would be. I thought once we were together and committed to the moment, that we could do this. I thought we could forget about the guilt. It's not even the guilt- it's the inconvenience and the not really being together."

She knew they weren't forgetting the guilt, just suppressing it. "I know, I just don't feel like we have a choice. It's Derek, I mean." She ducked into an on-call room and started to cry, "I know he's done some bad things, but he's a good person. He doesn't deserve the hurt that would come from telling him."

"It's hard to believe we deserve the pain of keeping it a secret. But I guess we do."

They both stopped talking and took in the silence for a moment.

Finally, Mark said, "All right. Well, I guess I'll see you at lunch."

"See you."

* * *

She met him at his apartment, to be on the safe side. As soon as they were safely in and the door was shut, they kissed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they just rested there, looking at each other. She felt so safe and comfortable.

"Happy Anniversary," she said.

"I'm not Derek," he replied.

"I know." She rolled her eyes and reached down for the bag she brought in. "I got you a present though, for me and Derek's anniversary." She held out the bag to him. "Thanks for putting up with my marriage."

He peeked inside. She'd gotten him a small super-chocolate-y cake. "Well, thank you," he said, awkwardly. "Cake for lunch?"

"Well, we indulge enough in each other enough, so I figured it couldn't hurt." She winked at him as she took off her coat. "That's not all."

"What else?" He said, pretending not to be amused.

"Well, just sit down with your cake and I will show you. One thing at a time." He didn't budge so she ushered him toward a chair and got a plate out and cut him a slice of cake. "Try it." She handed him a fork.

"Yummy," he said, licking his lips. "What's my other present?"

"I have two more presents in store for you." She started unbuttoning her shirt.

He kind of suspected something like this, and it finally got him to smile. He took another bite of chocolate cake.

She became a bit uncomfortable because it was taking her a really long time to get all the buttons undone and the only sound to be heard was him snarfing down his cake. It wasn't very sexy. "Gosh, I feel like I need to have some music on while I'm doing this." She hadn't exactly planned a striptease- his present was under her clothes.

"I believe that can be arranged," he said excitedly.

"That's okay." She just ripped the shirt, popping the last few buttons off.

"Or not," he said, surprised.

She knew she had spare clothes at Mark's, but it wasn't like her to ruin an expensive shirt. She unzipped her shirt quickly and it fell off, leaving her in the negligee that she had bought.

"Nice," was all he could say.

It was black and lacy, and so, so short. She kept itching to pull it further up over her breasts, but she knew it would just rise even more over her thighs. As uncomfortable as it was, it seemed to have a good effect on Mark, so she tried to get in the mood. "Thanks."

"So does this mean we can have sex?"

"No," She spun around, "You can look but not touch."

"Damn, Addison," he left the room, needing some space. "So you come here all dressed up and make me want you and tonight you're going to let Derek see you like this and he gets to screw you! It's not fair! I can't believe you! I literally can't believe you."

"That's because I'm just kidding." She strutted over to him. "Here." She put his hand on her ass.

He kept it there and she could feel the heat radiating from his palm. It was scorching. He put his other hand on her ass and watched her.

She crossed her arms, not touching him yet, but smiling up at him. "So?"

He moved his fingers across the lace and they slid easily.

She flushed, feeling his heat and feeding off of it. "Oh." He didn't say anything, but she could feel his dick growing harder and pressed her pelvis into his.

"So what's my third present? Sex?" He predicted.

She shook her head. "This..." she took one of his hands and placed it on the side of her breast and moved it all the way down her outfit, to the hem, "is all yours, only yours. Derek won't see this tonight."

He started to speak, but she interrupted, "I'm not sleeping with him tonight. Or any other night until..." 'this is all over,' She finished in her head.

He let his hands wander all over her, and nodded, smiling. "Pretty good present. It might take my mind off of not being with you tonight."

"We don't spend every night together," she reminded him.

"But I know you'll be with him."

"It's nothing. Trust me," she reassured him. She looped her hands around his neck again.

"Okay," he dipped his head down to kiss her. She deepened it instantly, holding his body close to hers.

He wrapped his arms around her ass and hoisted her up, carrying her to the bedroom.

They moved so slowly, but it all seemed a blur to her. He peeled off the negligee and she took off his shirt and pants. She realized her hands were shaking. "I feel like I don't know what I am doing."

"You're fine," He took both of her hands in his. She moved them to his chest and then his face.

"I'm so nervous," she laughed.

"You're fine," he repeated. "Just wait." He stood up and removed his pants. It was the first time she'd seen him, completely naked and he didn't look like he was shy.

"Oh my God," She gasped and laughed at the same time.

"That's good?"

"Yeah," She sat up on her knees to reach for him. She couldn't stop staring. He was so hot, it was unbelievable.

He slid back into bed with her. She was holding her breath for some reason. They were going to have sex. It was going to happen. He rolled onto her and she felt everything. Every part of him pressed against her. She looked down. She was kind of hot, she supposed, but she didn't look too hot pressed up against him. Everything about him was hard and muscular. Even though she was muscular, she felt soft under him. "Mark,"

He seemed to be enjoying himself, not really perceiving how she felt.

"Mark, I can't breathe." Not with him caressing the curves that she hated.

He lifted himself off of her, and she was exposed. Not completely, she still had panties on, but she couldn't hide herself anymore. It didn't bother her before, not in the negligee, not while he was kissing her. But suddenly she was totally aware.

She draped a hand over her stomach and then rolled so he couldn't stare at her entirely, but she was still trapped beneath his arms.

"Addison Montgomery. What is it?" He lowered his head in frustration.

She needed a blanket or a pillow to cover herself. "I'm trying."

"Trying what?"

She gave up, "You're so much hotter than I am!" She didn't want to sound like she was fishing for a compliment, but that's how she felt. "I've seen the women you date. They're perfect. You're perfect."

He rested on his side and buried his head in her chest. "You are far more perfect..." he trailed off. "You just don't know. You don't see-"

"That's the problem. I can see. I can see what you see and I can see what Derek sees. He doesn't want to have sex with me and I'm his wife. He's practically obligated to have sex with me and he won't! If I was..."

"What Addison? Skinnier? You'd look unhealthy. Fitter? You'd be spending too much time in the gym and not enough with me. If you wore more makeup, you'd look fake. I love the way you look. You think you're not perfect? Who's standards are you using?"

"Derek's," she knew.

He raised his hands up in frustration. "Always. I can't escape that guy. You know what our problem is? Even if you're not sleeping with him, he's still in your bed. He's still with you every step of the way, in our way."

He stood up, and put his underwear on.

"Mark, I'm sorry." She was such a bitch and a tease. If he didn't leave her this time, it would be a miracle.

He pointed at her. "We're kicking this self-conscious thing in the butt, now."

As soon as he said that, she was worried. She pulled his sheets up around her. He came back with two pieces of cake on a plate and ripped the sheets off of her in a smooth motion. "You won't be needing those."

She tried to move herself in the most flattering position possible, but it wasn't working. No matter how much she stretched out, there was always some part of her sticking out that she didn't want him to see.

"Sit up," he said.

She didn't want to. He would be able to see that her stomach wasn't perfectly flat and that she didn't have six-pack abs. She did as she was told anyway, absolutely mortified. She tried to sit up so maybe some of her weight would distribute itself, rather than hanging on her hips.

"Relax," he said, seeing through that move.

She couldn't; she didn't know how to. He sat across from her, mirroring her. He cut off a tiny bite of cake with the fork and held it to her.

It was stupid, but she didn't want to eat cake in bed when she felt fat. She sighed and knew she really had no excuse. One little piece of cake wouldn't hurt. She opened her mouth and ate it. It was good, Mark hadn't lied before. She really liked the chocolate icing.

"Good, right?" He took a bite too. "Come closer to me."

She scooted a little forward, and he pulled her legs all the way so her thighs rested over his knees and the plate of cake sat between them.

"That's better," he said and fed her another piece.

After four or five bites, she swore she could feel the cake sinking down into her stomach and adding to the extra body fat that she already felt was excessive, but medically knew was necessary. "I'm full," she smiled.

"Yeah, right." She wasn't fooling him. Another bite for her.

"Really." She put her hand protectively around her stomach.

"Quit that," He took her hand and held it. "Don't be ashamed. You need that for baby-making." He smiled.

She wondered if he was thinking about having kids with her. It was a fleeting thought. "I'm not pregnant yet."

"Addison, you're impossible," he laughed. "Shall I get you pregnant? So then you'd feel less self-conscious? Oh wait, we'd have to have sex to make that happen," he joked.

"I want to," she asserted, "I'm just embarrassed."

"Of what?" He tilted his head. "I know you're not making all of this," he gestured between them, "stuff up, but it kind of seems like this is a cover to the fact that you don't want to sleep with me because you're not ready to cheat on your husband. You can't let him go and admit to everything that would mean about you."

"Well, I can't keep coming up with reasons not to have sex with you," She touched his shoulder.

"Oh please, we haven't even discussed my legs yet."

"Your legs?" She wondered.

"My body is unbalanced. When I go to the gym, I always concentrate on my upper body, not my legs. They're not as muscular as everything," He shrugged.

"I love your legs!" She exclaimed. She loved everything about him. She scooted back and then leaned over so she could kiss them. She stopped when she got to his thighs. "They're...perfect." She realized what he was getting at. "Okay, you've made your point." She made a decision to be less self-conscious. She had to trust in the way he saw her.

He leaned toward her and she leaned back. He supported her back as she lay down. "I love everything about you." He kissed her stomach and she laughed.

She felt much better about it.

He looked up. "So, let's get out all the reasons for you not to sleep with me so next time we're better prepared."

She thought for a moment and threaded her hands through his hair. "Honestly? I'm afraid you're going to leave me after one time."

"Ouch." He pretended to be hurt, but she knew there was some truth in it.

"Sorry. It's just so easy for me to believe that the only reason you haven't left is that we haven't had sex yet."

"That's easy for you to believe? I feel like I've worked so hard not to make you think that."

"I know. I can tell."

"Then why? Why do you think that? Have you ever seen me do that before? I don't waste my time with girls that aren't worth it. If she doesn't want it, I move on. But you're worth it. You're worth the wait."

"I feel like there aren't that many girls who haven't wanted it from you. I don't know why I'm being like this."

"Addy, there's a million reasons not to have sex with me," he admitted. "But there's one reason to do it- if you're in love with me."

* * *

Addison was on edge the entire anniversary dinner. Derek tried to make small talk, but it was hard for her to figure out what to say, what wasn't too suspicious. She was desperately afraid of accidentally revealing the affair.

Halfway through dinner, he must have ran out of things to talk about because he asked her, "Hey, Addy? You ever want to have kids?"

She froze. She didn't imagine he was interested in her, much less that he would want her to have his child.

"I know we've talked about it before, but it never happened. I mean, are you still on the pill?"

"No." She's thrown that out with their sex life.

"Oh really? I didn't know that you went off of it. So do you think maybe we should go to a doctor? Figure out if something's wrong?"

She was angry that suddenly he wanted to have kids and he couldn't even pretend like he cared about her on a day to day basis. This was the most time they'd spend together since...probably their last anniversary. "Oh, I know what's wrong, I am an OB, remember? I deal with this stuff all the time." She took a sip of her wine. "You know you have to have sex to have kids, right, Derek?"

"We have sex!" He defended, rather loudly.

She lowered her voice. "Not once a month when I may or may not be ovulating." She stabbed at her salad with a fork. "And it's been shown that an orgasm for the mother is very beneficial. So you might want to work on that."

He turned red. "Well, happy anniversary to you too." They sat in silence eating for a while until Derek continued, "If you didn't want to have kids, you could have just said no."

"Okay," she didn't feel like talking anymore. Her cell phone rang. It was Mark. "Sorry, I need to take this." She left for the bathroom. "Hey."

"How's it going?" He asked.

"Horrid. I feel like leaving him right now. He wants to have kids!"

Mark didn't say anything.

"Mark? Thank you for being here. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Just remember your present to me."

"I remember."

"I can't see you tonight, can I?"

"Probably not. Derek will insist on staying in the same bed, even if we aren't having sex."

"Fine. See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

She made her way back to the table.

"Who was that? The hospital?" Derek asked.

She wanted to say that it was none of his business, but she was feeling a lot more dangerous tonight. "It was Mark." She refolded the napkin in her lap.

"What'd he want?" Derek asked, confused.

"He asked how it was going."

"Dinner?"

She nodded.

"Why would he assume dinner was anything other than great?"

"Because our marriage is awful," She said honestly. "it's, like, the worst."

"No, it's not," was his instant response. "You really think so? But we're in love. We're Addison and Derek."

She could begin to see the hurt in his eyes and felt bad. Clearly, he didn't know what he was doing. He didn't understand how he was hurting her. She was glad that she didn't sleep with Mark that afternoon. She didn't need anymore guilt that she already had at this point. It was getting easier to forget about it around Mark, but around Derek, it was like an elephant on her shoulders. Luckily, she didn't see Derek much. "You're right. I don't know why I said that."

"I could do better." He reached for her hand and held it across the table. "I could be around more, okay? We could have more sex?"

She didn't know what she wanted. Would it be better to rip off the band-aid and sleep with Mark or to work at it with Derek? She knew that she wasn't happy somewhere in the middle. She had to pick a side. She squeezed Derek's hand. "Thanks. That would mean a lot."

She knew after their discussion that he would be expecting sex. When she told Mark that she wouldn't, she didn't really think about how she would go about doing that. Heck, if Derek got in and out really fast, would it even count? No, she couldn't let Mark down this time.

Derek lead her into the house and when they entered the bedroom, she started the excuses. "I'm really tired." She fake-yawned which turned into a real yawn.

"How are we going to make a baby if we don't have sex?" He countered.

"You know what? I'm on my period so I'm not ovulating anyway and I just feel kind of gross." She made a face of disgust. It stopped him for a moment, but he seemed determined nevertheless.

"It's our anniversary, Addy. I love you. I'm so glad we've had eleven years together." He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head.

It was painful to even kiss him at this point. He kissed her neck and instead of feeling loved like every time he'd done it before she felt revolted. "Derek." She pushed him away. "Let me wash up for a sec, okay?"

"Okay." She crawled out from underneath him and noticed him already undoing his belt.

She grabbed her purse from the nightstand on the way to the bathroom. She got out her phone and texted Mark frantically.

"Help. Can't stop him. You have to call him and get him out of here."

She waited and less than a minute later, she heard Derek's phone ring.

Derek sighed. "Mark, you know it's our anniversary. By the way, thanks for calling and ruining our dinner. That was thoughtful." He paused, "I just can't tonight. I promised Addison that I'd be around more."

She could hear Mark shouting on the line. Derek hung up and the phone rang again. Derek silenced it. He looked up to see Addison half out of her dress. "Hey. It was Mark. He's got some real bad girl problems, for once." Derek laughed and strolled over to meet her in the doorway of the bathroom.

"What happened?" She asked softly.

"Apparently, he's in love. First time I've ever heard that." Derek raised his eyebrows. "He doesn't know if she feels the same way though."

"You can go talk to him. It's no big deal." Addison said, trying to hide her tears. Her phone rang. It was Mark.

Derek saw and grabbed it and silenced it. He threw it across the room. "Addison."

She was still holding her dress up and he took it down for her.

She was scared of him. He was Derek; he was her husband- she knew he was gentle. But she didn't really know him at all. If she refused him, she didn't know what he was capable of. He seemed pretty intent on having her that night.

She'd just have to do it for Mark. "Derek, I'm not going to have sex with you tonight."

"Well, why not?"

'Because you're bad at it,' she wanted to say. "Because I don't feel like it. Sorry," she added.

"What's going on with you?" He stepped forward and kissed her, on the mouth this time because she let him. He sucked on her lips for a while and she kissed him back. "Don't you love me anymore?"

"I do," She kissed him again, but he pulled away.

"I gotta go. I can't deal with this. I can't deal with you. I can't even stand to talk to Mark." He buttoned up his shirt. "I need a time out."

"How can you say that? You've had like a three year half time break in our marriage and twenty minutes into the game, you need a time out? You don't need a break. You need to be doing something for a change!" She yelled.

"You wanna have sex?" He retorted.

"No, Derek!" She wanted to pull her hair out. "I can't believe you are reducing me to this. Having sex or losing you? I'm your wife! Not a hooker!"

"You're not losing me. I'm just going out for a while," He said to calm her down. "We both need to release some stress before talking to each other and saying things we don't mean."

That's not what he meant. He wanted her to have a few minutes to control her temper and realize it that playing it safe- suppressing harsh, real emotions. Saying things that they did mean. "You're leaving me," she said after he was gone.

It didn't take long for the tears to fall. She saw she had three missed calls from Mark and called him. "Derek left. He's such an asshole. But I didn't sleep with him."

"I'm on my way over. I was afraid something bad had happened."

"You'd better not. I don't know when he'll be back. I just wanted to tell you. I didn't think he was going to listen to me. Then, he kissed me and left!" She realized she was cold and covered herself with the sheet. "I'm so lonely, Mark! Nothing is working out. I'm stuck."

"Do you feel stuck with me?"

"No. I feel stuck in this situation. Maybe I just need to rest." She wanted to ask him if it was true, if he really loved her, because that's all she could really think about at this point. She decided against it because it would probably make him come over and Derek would find them and then things would really start to explode. She just couldn't believe she was spending her anniversary at home in bed alone. "I'm tired."

"Get some sleep. I'll try to find Derek."

"Bye Mark."

* * *

TBC

Hopefully.


	8. 13:8 Love Never Fails Part 2

**Contains a sexual scene. Also, this gets pretty fluffy in the end. But they deserve it. **

**How It Started**

_1 Corinthians 13:13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. _

After the night of the disastrous anniversary, Addison didn't really feel like going to work anymore, or seeing Derek at all. They avoided each other, which suited Mark pretty well, except that Addison couldn't seem to lift up her spirits any. She'd lost some of the glow that made her a really special person to be around. All she wanted to do, on her days off was cuddle in bed and not talk.

Mark supposed she had just gotten so lonely, that's all she could do. He feared he could never completely fill her need, that because he wasn't Derek, there would always be a little part of her soul missing.

So, he took her to the only place where he knew they dealt with souls- back to church. It was Sunday at 8 AM when he woke her. "Addison," He pulled on her legs, but she clung to the sheets of his bed. "Let's go, we're going to church."

"I can't," she whined.

He was already dressed and ready, having planned this for a couple of days. He knew it would take her a while, but they were going. "You can. You love church."

"Not anymore," she said stubbornly. "Not since I'm going to be thrown in the fiery gates of hell when I die!" She crawled back up into a ball and covered her head with a pillow.

"That's not true," he was convinced. "Come on, put on a pretty dress and be forgiven." He stroked her legs with his hand.

She sat up. "Forgiven? How can I be forgiven? I feel branded! They should just make me wear a scarlet 'A' on my clothes."

He couldn't tell if this was just one of her dramatic episodes, or if it might be something that ends their relationship. "You know, I'm no theologian, but I don't ever remember them saying that you can only be forgiven so many times or that something is just 'too bad' to be forgiven so get your butt out of bed and practice what you believe in!"

She wiped the makeup and dried tears from under her eyes. "You didn't even want to go back. It's just too hard to go back and see David and all of them. I don't want to lie anymore."

He helped her out of bed. "If they're who they say they are, they won't judge us. Let's pick out a dress."

She stood her ground firmly. "We can just stay home and pray and read and it won't make any difference. Let's just do that."

He ran his hands through her tangled hair and held her face. "You forgive Derek for all he's done to you, and me, for all I'm putting you through now. You can forgive everyone else, so forgive yourself." He needed her to be the optimist that she once was- believing that God or the universe or whatever was working for their ultimate good.

* * *

To Addison's surprise, everyone seemed glad to see them back. No one commented on their absence the previous week or their dwindling appearance at Bible study. Before the service, she picked out their seat in the sanctuary while Mark used the bathroom before everything started.

When he didn't return for a few minutes, she looked back and saw him in the lobby, talking to David. David was smiling, but Mark seemed kind of sad. His head hung down as he talked, his body slouched. Then David patted him on the back and said something that seemed to cheer him up. They walked into the sanctuary together and Mark sat by Addison.

"What was that about?" She asked.

"We just talked about how lucky we are," He smiled at her as they stood for the call to worship.

As Addison repeated the prayer, she felt oddly at peace. Mark, after everything, was still here for her. He'd brought her to a place that would make her at ease, but where he didn't enjoy being. She watched him as the pastor spoke the words of the New Testament- "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

She knew she'd heard that verse somewhere before, probably at a wedding, and she thought she believed it at that time. She believed that's what she had with Derek. But now, it wasn't true and her eyes were opened to how much Mark loved her. After communion, when she prayed at the altar, he knelt beside her and prayed with her. After a few minutes, she heard him whispering his prayers out loud as he asked for guidance on their path.

They held hands on their way back down the aisle and didn't let go the rest of the service. She stayed close to him, feeling warmth and kindness in her heart where cold guilt had sank hours earlier.

On their way out, another couple approached them and commented how nice it was to have them there and what a good example they were as a couple, supporting each other in their faith. Addison was speechless, still, but Mark thanked them for their kind words. She rode home silently, and completely content and in love with Mark.

* * *

Mark thought the church service had been uncomfortable. He didn't like talking to David about how he felt about Addison because it made it seem likely that they wouldn't work out. The lesson on love was okay, he supposed. He didn't like praying at the altar with Addison. He was sweaty and he felt like everyone was watching him. Like they could see his prayers float out of his head and they were judging him for them. Prayers like- "Forgive me for committing adultery, but You gave me a heart to love her, so it can't be that bad" and "feed everyone who's hungry" and "Please let Derek not hate me that much when he finds out."

He whispered his prayers for Addison out loud because he wanted her to know that he was thinking of her. He wanted her to feel safe and serene around him, and not on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He couldn't tell if it worked or not. She wasn't speaking to him. Maybe she was still mad that he made her go. He'd honestly thought it would help. He started to pull off on the street to his apartment.

"No," she said, "Let's go to the brownstone."

She never wanted to hang out on Derek's territory. He was afraid and excited of what this might mean. "Why?" He turned onto another street heading towards the brownstone.

"I'm ready," she said.

Ready for what? He wanted to know. He tried not to get his hopes up. Ready for sex? Ready to tell Derek? Ready to leave Derek? "Are you sure Derek's not home?"

"Yeah," she said decisively. She unlocked the door and opened it for him. He closed the door and she kissed him, one hand holding the shoes she just slipped off, one arm around his neck.

All right. He was going to take what he got from her. He wrapped his hands around her waist and waited patiently for a signal as to what this would lead to as they kissed. He loved kissing Addison and now that they'd done it so many time, it was starting to get that great familiar feeling. Like home. Or warm baked cookies.

Or scorching hot baked cookies, he thought, feeling every part of her body against him. She backed up and hit the stairs, taking a seat. He hovered over her on his knees. He continued to kiss her, down her jaw, down her neck.

"Oh, Mark," she enjoyed what he was doing. "I have to," she held his mouth up to hers without kissing. "I love you."

He couldn't stand it and kissed her. She had no idea what it meant for her to say that. "I love you too." He was never going to let her go.

He held her face tight to his. He couldn't get enough. "I need you."

"I'm all yours," she replied.

This had to be a dream or something, but he didn't want it to be. She had on a flow-y skirt that was perfect because he didn't have to do any ripping or tearing or stretching and he didn't have to work at the button to take it off. He lifted up the puffy layers and took off her panties. Finally, he was going to see her. He buried his head between her thighs before she could protest or complain. He started by kissing her thighs, just to tease he. Then he lapped inside her and she clenched hard around him. Her knees dug painfully into his shoulders and she gripped the side of his neck, fingernails digging into his skin.

"Mark," she gasped.

He'd never done this. She'd never let him get this close before. He wasn't going to let her down. He immersed himself in her, so he couldn't see or taste anything but her. He gave her a few more strokes all the way up to her clit and she came.

Mark was pretty sure that she was the easiest woman to make climax ever.

"Fast again," she remarked. He rose up and held her on the stairs. He loved how out of breath she was. Mark knew he was good in bed, but he had to be careful with Addison. He wasn't quite sure what she liked yet and didn't understand what made her scared or nervous. Of course, he was concerned that something he did would remind her of Derek, but he didn't want to think about that.

As he held her, she rubbed his arms, which turned into stroking his chest and pulling at his pants. "My turn."

"Your turn?"She moved off of him and kneeled at a lower step on the stairs. She kissed his legs like he'd done to her but wasted no time because within minutes, his pants were off and she was staring at his dick. He couldn't tell if she hesitated because she was scared or overwhelmed (he'd like to think), but she seemed determined. She smiled and he knew she was taking time to appreciate what they'd withheld from each other for so long. Finally, her fingers curled around him and she moved her fist over his entire length a couple of times. His head fell back against the stairs in pleasure. He tried to watch her, but it was just too much.

He felt her mouth on him and he groaned loudly. That little bit of wetness and warmth sent him delirious with promises of what was to come. She began taking more of him in her mouth, swallowing every so often. The contractions down her tongue made him grip the stairs harder.

"Addy," he said through his teeth.

She cupped his balls until he was as far down her throat as he could be without doing any damage. He hadn't expected her to give him head at all, much less anything more than a few inches. She was committed.

She wasn't as coordinated as she'd like to pretend- it kind of felt like she couldn't decide whether to give him a blow job or a hand job and she was going at two different rhythms, but he didn't complain. Just watching her, and knowing that she was Addison and she was his and the visual of her taking him- He pulled on her hair and pulled her mouth off him.

"Not done yet," she said.

"I know, but I need to rest a minute before getting back up and running."

"Rest? No way. You haven't even came yet."

"Yeah, and I'd like to hold it off for a little longer. I promised you a marathon love-making session and you're going to get it." They needed to move to the bed, he decided. He had carpet-burn in bad places from all their movement on the stairs. They both shakily stood up as they held onto each other and climbed up the stairs. But the absence of her body pressed into him intimately made him feel empty and cold. Apparently she felt the same way because she stopped him halfway up to kiss him and pushed him back up. They didn't take their lips off of each other until they reached the bed and he lifted her and sat her on it.

He stood between her legs for a moment as they kissed and ran their hands all over each other. Somehow her sweater had come off already, so he stripped her of her tank top and bra. He helped her lay down on the bed, holding her breasts as he did so, running his fingers over her nipples until they got hard and then pinching them.

"Hmm," she moaned when he pinched too hard. She grabbed him by his shirt roughly, determined to inflict pain in revenge. She laughed as she shoved him back on the bed to straddle him. He put his hands back on her boobs as she placed light kisses on his neck. He could tell that her lips were swollen and sore, which made him want to kiss her some more, but he didn't want her to feel like he was trying to eat her. She slowed down the tempo by resting her head on his chest. He took one hand off of her breasts to caress her lower back, heading down to her ass.

Addison smiled, "I really do love you."

"I know," he said. Strange enough, it aroused him even more when she said it and he could tell she meant it.

He was as hard and practically bursting to get inside of her. "Touch me," he told her and she did.

"Slow," he said and showed her with his own hand. He needed to pace himself or else everything would get way out of control too soon. He took a deep breath. He tried to flip them over, but she kept her knees locked by his stomach. He thought maybe she was going to blow him off again, but she rose and slowly started to sink down on him.

She moved very slowly. "Ahh."

He held her hand tightly. "It's okay."

She was breathing deeply and quickly as if every inch of him pushed a little more air out of her. He couldn't help but wonder if she was so tense because she hadn't had sex in a long time.

He shifted slightly and she froze and glared at him. "Don't you dare break my vagina, Mark Sloan, or I'm never sleeping with you again."

"I'm not doing anything!" He said, "It's all you." She made it all the way down on him, completely encompassing him and now it was his turn not to be able to breathe. She was so warm and everywhere. He grabbed her ass, trying to release some of the pleasure he was feeling. He figured it was so good because she took her time. Most girls just wanted to get off and get out. He shared the same philosophy then, but now it was Addison and it was very different.

"Please," he begged her to start moving. He needed her to build and finish him because he couldn't stand how good he felt. She moved slightly up and down, short thrusts that caught her where she wanted him to be most. Her head fell forward and she pressed on his stomach to lift herself and get a better angle.

He needed her to move harder and deeper, but knew it was only fair to give her more time. He rubbed her clit and this time her head fell back and she squeezed him so hard that she could barely continue to move. He could tell that she needed some help so he grabbed her hips and moved her almost all the way of his dick before pulling her as deep as she was before. She got the hang of it and he even started lifting his hips to meet her. She started to tense up and got a worried look on her face.

"What's wrong?" He asked and started to low down a little bit.

"Nothing," she blew her hair out of her face and squeezed him again.

"It's okay to let go." He touched her face.

"No, I don't want you to leave."

He held both of her hands. "I will never leave you. Let me show you I love you for you." He brought her down closer to him. She propped herself up so she could look him straight in the eyes. Now he was doing most of the thrusting work, but that was good with him so he could set their pace.

He held her in his arms when she came. He saw a light in the hallway and he became nauseous. But he was so close.

He saw the familiar face. "Derek."

He let go holding Addison and for a moment, she stayed.

A moment later, she'd discarded him and was running after Derek.

He left, hoping they'd make up later, which they did, but not completely, after Derek left for Seattle.

And that is how it started.

* * *

That's all! Thanks for reading. I really did love this fic. Maddison's great. Unfortunately this might be it for a while because I have school and have to write things for real.


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